Protector of the Crown
by leM0NSTER
Summary: While Anne Boleyn runs free with her husband, one witch, the true power behind Anne Boleyn fights only with herself. When she rises to power over the pureblood wizards, how will she, a woman, control them in their quest to 'save' the wizarding world?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story are historical figures and therefore do not belong to me. Nicholas Flamel is not my creation either. Only my lovely Elizabeth Everard and Eric Donnan belong to me. Please remember this as you read and enjoy. 

"Anne, you must be careful. You must watch your tongue around the King."

"Hush your tongue, Elizabeth. I've spoken to the King this way many times before and it has only captured his attention, not turned him away. I am the one that Henry is to fall in love with, not you. You are simply a common girl, barely fit to walk within these castle walls."

"I am as royal by birth as you are, if not more."

"Royal in what way. You are no royal in our world."

"No, but I am a royal in the world where I was born and where I am meant to be."

For years, I have listened to my sister's harsh words. She was convinced that she is of a higher social status than I am and now, she's positive that speaking and acting as anything other than a proper lady would catch the King's attention and would put her in his favor. What she doesn't realize is that while she will get to reap the benefits of being married to the wealthy king, it is I who do all the work. I made all the necessary potions. I have sewn her every gown and made them glitter with the magic that runs through my veins. And here, she gets all the credit.

At one time, I was a lone child wandering the streets of Kent. I knew only two things: my name, and the fact that I was gifted in ways that other's weren't. One wonderful day when I was seven years old, I stumbled upon Sir Boleyn and Lady Howard. They offered to take me in as their own child and I graciously accepted. It had been two years since I had left the orphanage and had eaten a decent meal.

I soon found myself to have two sisters and one brother, Mary and George were both younger than I was and Anne was the same age as me. The children soon accepted me into their family and we were quite close. Still, I knew that I was different from all of them. When Anne and I would fight, suddenly, I would be able to start fires from a distance, or even cause massive wind storms that would nearly lift the large residence from it's footing. These traits were not found in 'normal' pre-teen girls.

Then, ten years ago on two days before what the Boleyn's had dubbed as my birthday, I received a mysterious letter from a place called Hogwarts. When I showed it to my mum and dad, they were skeptical at first. They weren't planning on allowing me to attend until an elderly man who appeared to be past his prime came to our door and spoke with them. I sat silently along the wall as Mr. Nicholas Flamel told them that I, am a witch. With a proper wand and supplies, I would be able to create potions, charm or curse others, and I would have many other opportunities open to me.

"Would she have an opportunity to gain an audience with the King?" they asked eagerly.

"No," Flamel replied sharply. "You must never tell anyone of this. The world of magic has always been persecuted by non-wizards." Mum and Dad's eyes looked downward. "However," Flamel continued. "She would have opportunities to charm the King and turn his favor in your direction."

At this, Mum and Dad eagerly said yes. They gave Flamel five-thousand pounds in turn for him escorting me to school and my tuition for seven years. I accompanied Flamel to a purely wizarding location named Diagon Alley where we purchased necessities and my wand. On September 1st, he took me to an open field just outside of London and put me in a carriage. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said to the large black winged stallion that stood before the carriage. The carriage ride alone was quite lonesome but for the majority of the trip, I was either watching the landscape fly past or reading through my new textbooks.

When we reached the school, I gazed upon the towering castle in awe. Once inside the main gates, I met my first professor and was lead into a large room with about 40 other students in there. As I looked around, I saw only 3 other girls. We became fast friends and spent the majority of our time talking about boys and our lives before we were invited to attend Hogwarts. We were soon separated and sorted into our respective houses and I was placed in the house of Salazar Slytherin.

My first banquet at Hogwarts was a memory that will last me forever. When they called me up to the small stool that stood up at the front of the Great Hall, Most students and even a professor or two gasped in awe when they heard, "Elizabeth Everard." It was at this banquet that I learned that my family was of royal status in Magical England and that many thought that the entire Everard family had died from the plague.

Being one of 36 girls at Hogwarts made females the rarest of all students. Boys were always attempting to court us and being the proper girls that we were, we didn't let them. I still don't quite understand how most of the girls kept their virtue and virginity in those seven years of learning. I managed to lose mine in my fifth year to a dashing seventh year by the name of Eric Donnan.

Eric often told me of how his family was nearly on the same level of royalty as mine, but he regarded me as his queen and nearly knelt at my feet. I felt his flattery was unnecessary and he was merely looking to find a way out of his pants and under my petticoat. However, he continued to be persistent through my 3rd, 4th, and 5th years. I finally agreed to ignore my father's advice and allowed myself to become attached to him. We immediately became a power couple on campus and were truly something to be reckoned with. Very few crossed our path and even fewer stood up to us for when we were together, we were invincible. We promised each other that we would find each other once again after I graduated.

After I left Hogwarts, I returned back to the home of the Boleyns to find that Anne and Mary were still serving as Ladies-in-Waiting to the Queen of France and George was also being educated in the same court. Father sent me to Westminster Palace to become a Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Catherine. During my time in the palace before Anne, Mary, and George returned, I used a few simple charms to catch the King's eye. Although I had no love interest in him, Father commanded me to attempt to woo His Grace away from his wife. Although I never accompanied the King to his bedchamber, he did grant me the title Marquess of Hamilton and showered me with gifts. I was quite thankful when father told me to 'give up' on His Majesty and that perhaps one of my sisters would do better.

As young as I was, I thought about what professions I could go into. I was content living as Marquess but Father wanted more from me. He suggested I become a Lady-in-Waiting and when I had the opportunity, to move up in the King's eyes, I should take it. Although I much preferred the notion of becoming an apothecary, for my potion brewing skills are great, thanks to the alchemist that fetched me from my home that evening, Flamel too agreed that I become a Lady-in-Waiting.

When Anne returned home, she had a fit after she found out that I had become one of the Queen's favourite Ladies-in-Waiting. She demanded to take my place but the Queen was not keen to respond to her needs. Slowly, Anne managed to climb her way up to the level that I was and I must say, she did an excellent job. Now, it was her task to fall in love with the King.

When Mary returned home from France, however, she was the first to gain the King's attention. She married early and still found a way to sleep with his Majesty. She ended up having a son from him and named the small boy Henry, after his father. Yet once the child was born, the King could care less about his possible Heir for his attentions had already turned to Anne.

I'm afraid I must confess that I feel as though it is partially my fault for waiting so long to slip the love potion into King Henry's drink. I had made it specifically for Anne though and once Henry had slopped the entire tankard down his throat and on his robes, he was entirely obsessed with Anne. The love potion worked perfectly and gradually. It was entertaining to see Anne flirt mercilessly with every man in the room other than the King himself and then see the King make a forward move towards her and she would retort sharply and cause a row. Still though, the King loved her as no other. My mastery in potions showed itself thoroughly during this time.

This is where I shall begin my tale of love, lies, and deceit.

-Elizabeth Everard


	2. Spring 1527

The King's eyes danced lovingly over Anne as she twisted and turned, leapt and chasséd across the dance floor at His Majesty's annual masquerade. Women flaunted their bosoms, men eagerly waited to gain the courage to ask each one to dance and occasionally, the entire court would dance at once, switching partners every few steps. It was on one of these occasions that I was approached by my father and given my new task

"Elizabeth, you must promise me this. Protect Anne. Keep the King's attention on her. If you accomplish that goal and allow Anne to become queen, the status of the family will rise greatly. You would be sister to the Queen, Elizabeth. You would be given any chance you would like. Will you do that for her, for us, for yourself?"

I sighed sadly. Of course I could accomplish that. And being raised by the Boleyns' taught me one thing above all: _Always respect your elders._

"Of course, Sir," I replied anonymously, keeping with the masquerade element and with this, we returned to the dance floor.

When the last song was announced, the entire court rose to their feet. The song was a simple waltz and the swapping of partners ensued. My velvet gown flowed around me and my silvery mask shone with diamonds. Mary had previously helped me catch my light brown hair in a silver net and I wore a small tiara of diamonds that had been given to me by the King in my days of wooing him. As the last few measures were being played, we switched partners for a final time and no sooner had I changed to a new gentleman than I was swept off my feet into a hidden alcove.

"I've been looking for you," a rich baritone voice murmured softly over my shoulder in my ear. "Do you remember me?" he asked as he turned me around to face him. He lifted his crimson mask off from his face and I cast my eyes downward to avoid seeing the countenance of my captor. The one image that I did see though, was deep brown eyes, dark as night, but full of heart and meaning.

I nibbled my lower lip nervously and untied the simple knot that held my mask on the upper half of my face. As I lifted my mask off, I gazed into the chocolate orbs that looked down upon me and I allowed my eyes to drift over his finely wrought features.

"E-E-Eric?" I whispered in disbelief.

He smiled reassuringly but his eyes looked downwards as if he was recalling a distant memory. "There are few who recall that as my name, even fewer who use it," he mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion.

"How long have you been out of touch with the wizarding world Elizabeth?" he asked, slowly turning to face me.

"Seven years. What has happened in my absence?"

"So much can happen in so little time," he thought aloud to nobody.

"Eric, What is going on?" I asked, frightened at his response.

"This isn't the location to discuss this. We must move before we're overheard. Come," Eric snapped, taking me by the wrist roughly and yanking me into the courtyard by the fountain. "Here is good," he said as he sat down on the edge of the stone basin.

"Eric, what happened to you? Why the harshness? What has gotten into you? Where did the Eric that I know go?" I pleaded.

Eric closed his eyes a moment and sighed. "He's still here Elizabeth," he mumbled softly, taking my hand and placing it upon his breast. "It's just, so much has changed since you left to return to muggle England. There is a great battle being waged in the wizarding world. It began just two years ago..."

"Eric, I am not going to come play nurse for you during this battle. My apothecary skills are not to be abused."

"Let...me...finish," Eric commanded. "Shortly after you left, the remaining purebloods and I began to meet to discuss what action should be taken to keep the wizarding bloodlines pure."

I opened my mouth to respond but he placed his index finger softly upon my lips.

"The noble families have declared me as their leader. They named me Erebus and charged me with the task to purge the countryside of every mudblood in existence."

"Why have you come to seek out me though?" I asked.

"Because Elizabeth, you have as much power as I do. You are as pure of blood as I am. You are one of few that's status is above me and that knows nothing of what is going on. Your people need you. You are the equivalent of His Highness there. And you have been absent from your reign as Queen. Muggle England is not the only England that still uses the feudal system.

"Mudbloods, Halfbloods, Squibs, all must be sacrificed to bring the Wizarding world to peace once more. Can't you see it? You're the only one who can unite us. You're the only one left with that power in your veins. You're our last hope to bring this world to peace."

"Eric, I don't think I-"

"You must. You have no choice. If you don't come with me, I swear I don't want to do this, but I will bring you back to your place. You will be seated upon the throne of Wizarding England whether you want to or not. Elizabeth, they gave me the right to come close to killing you. To nearly end your bloodline if you won't come. I don't want to do that to you, Elizabeth."

"But, I've got to take care of Anne and –"

"Elizabeth, don't make me hurt you," Eric pleaded, sinking to one knee and presented a jeweled crown and sword. "These are yours. With them you rule. Without them, you are powerless and forced to yield to the power of the lower Lords. It is your decision, but you must decide now."


	3. Summer 1533 Part I

"It's been over six years since Eric came to me with the proposition and I'm reaching the end of my wit. I've done everything I can to hold them off. But my time is coming. I can feel it," I told George. He of all people held the most amounts of sympathy and respect for what I was doing, leading my own people and still trying to support Anne at once.

A few days each week, I traveled far into the countryside and returned to the disguised Gaelen castle that once belonged to my ancestors. I met with the lords and we discussed tactics on how to win the war. But they needed me more. Although Anne relied upon me so heavily this year, she had to accept the fact that I'm going to take my place as Queen. I only wish I could have seen the tantrums that erupted when the Boleyns told her that I would assist her for one year more and then I was free to go. I believe that they were more scared of me than anything and I got the feeling that they thought that I would turn them into an animal. Not that I would have much use in my court for a member of my muggle family.

Anne would have Mary and George by her side if she needed help. She grew grown increasingly dependent upon us these past months and has become a true creature not to be reckoned with. She would to bed and barely sleep. She drank wine in the mornings to flush her face so nobody would see her exhaustion and she lived in a dream world where the only to people who existed were her and Henry, just barely in touch with reality. And now that she had a baby in her stomach, she's become all the more delicate. Everyone waited on her hand and foot, not only because she was Queen now, but also because she was possibly carrying the next Prince of England and all wanted her favor.

Well, all except me.

Each day I looked forward to the time when I would be allowed to ride out from Greenwich to Gaelen Castle and meet with Eric and the others. Anne was due to be locked within her confinement chamber within the week and then I would finally be free.

"Just one more week," I told Mary, George and myself. We all looked forward to the time when Anne would enter her confinement. I'd be brewing the last of my materials into the love potion that Anne used to continue to hold the king's attention in her privy chamber and I would leave it for her within her closet. George would finally have the opportunity to have a say in his own life and run with those he chooses. And Mary's looked forward to it as well. Ever since her husband Carey died, she was lonesome and searched endlessly for a father for her son Henry and daughter Catherine. Someone who works well with the children and she found it in a steward to her father.

The day that Anne entered that dark, windowless chamber was the day my life began. With her bed removed from her inner sanctum, I had all the room I needed to concoct the passionate potion that would free me forevermore. I stood in the middle of the wide oaken room and closed all of her velvet drapes to block out the sunlight. I locked the door with both key and spell and conjured up the large cauldron that I needed to ensure no spilling, nor staining would occur. After clearing a decent area under where I levitated the cauldron, I placed some wood from the hearth and brought a bright blue fire to life over which I would stew the tonic.

The joy of being alone in the Queen's private rooms was a petty victory, but one I was quite proud of. But the joy came not in knowing that I had the rooms to myself. Oh no, the true joy came in the fact that I knew that if anyone was to be caught for witchcraft now, it would be Anne. And as I stood there in my light chartreuse gown, my thoughts turned to spite and anger as I realized that on my first day of freedom, I was spending it still serving my sister. I wasn't really free at all. The room began to fill with a sweltering heat and I felt the desire to fling open the windows and allow the fresh air to pour in, a luxury that not even the Queen had. But I knew to keep my secrecy, I couldn't. So there I stood, mixing nettles with moonstone boiling with heat and malice and stewing the potion as well as my anger.

Hours passed and the concoction, as well as my temper, simmered. Yet as the time came for it to be bottled up and sealed with wax, I found myself wanting to throw in a poison, or perhaps a dash of Veritaserum. Just something to sabotage the ungrateful sister that I'd served for so long. I peeked into the cauldron and noted the characteristic aurora borealis shine that glowed on the surface and inhaled the toxic aroma of sugared pears. _'Another perfect batch,'_ I grumbled and began conjuring up the glass vials that would serve Anne for the next few years until she found an apprentice witch to make it for her.

But the spite that grew within me began to overflow. Without thinking, I leaned over the cauldron and spat my anger within. Mixing the brew thoroughly, I ladled the potion into the heart shaped containers. As the numbers of flasks swelled, I was almost sad to see no visual or aromatic effects of my actions. I numbered the flasks with the date, sealed them with a proper Tudor green wax, and placed them behind the remaining vessels that held the same clear liquid. With a flick of my wrist, the room was clean and although a faint scent of sugared pears remained, I assumed that the scent would air out before the room was to be used again. And as a free woman, I stepped over the threshold of Anne's room one final time, finally free of the claustrophobic atmosphere that held me in my position here in King Henry VIII's court.

I made my way outside into the palace courtyard where the wintry flowers were beginning to bloom and the scent of fresh pumpkins filled the air. The stone walls were spotted with bouts of moss and vine as they crawled their way to the skies. I was finally able to skip and hop along the flagstone pathway that wound its' way through the rose gardens and topiary forest. I was finally free.

"Good Evening, Milady."

"And Good Evening to you good Sir! How are you on this beautiful, clear night?" I asked playfully not bothering to turn around and continuing to spin in circles, not seeing any distinct features of the walls or the surrounding courtiers.

"Your Majesty, it is time."


	4. Summer 1533 Part II

"Your Majesty, it is time."

At the sound of 'Your Majesty' I stopped spinning on the spot and found my eyes wide open, my face in a state of shock, like a deer in headlights. My head was still reeling with dizziness and I felt myself sway. I closed my eyes for just a moment too long and fell back on my heels, only to be caught in the arms of my dear Eric. I felt his warm breath on my lips, his powerful, yet gentle arms supporting my entire weight, and the soft rustle of fine silk whispered near my ear.

"W-w-w-why thank you Eric," I managed to stutter out as he helped me return to my feet. "Time you say? I haven't even packed!"

"I can help you with that. Come along. We must hurry," he murmured as we walked side-by-side back to my rooms, an awkward silence passing between us.

When we reached the heavy wooden door that opened into my privy chamber, we both reached for the handle and as our hands touched, the spark that was lit so many years ago reignited within me. I stepped into the room and took one last glance at my home for the past 13 years. The oak-paneled walls seemed closer, more confining, the tapestries harsh and overbearing, and the heat of the fire far too intense. It was no longer the home I loved, for it had become a prison. The lush bed littered with goose-down pillows appeared stockier than before, and the clean white linen sheets that had been so kindly turned down for me by the maid appeared disheveled and plain. The stone fireplace that lay across the room from the wooden four-poster bed was filled with burning embers and the rushes on the floor were dry beneath my feet. I felt as though I was seeing my room for the first time.

Behind me, Eric shut the door and locked it with the iron skeleton key that I had given to him many months ago, along with the invitation to join me at court at any time. The window was already locked tight against the cold autumnal breeze and I finished the act by drawing the blinds closed. Eric removed his elm and dragon heartstring wand from the inner folds of his cloak and aimed at the door as if to further increase our secrecy but I placed my hand on his arm as he began to mutter the charm. He understood the unsaid command and instead, I slipped my Blackthorn and Runespoor Fang wand out from within my bodice and mumbled "Cella Silencio" as the walls were silenced and locked the door with "Contego Ostium."

"I haven't forgotten all my spells Eric. I am more than capable to do things on my own."

"I know. But I'm your escort and as a man, it's my duty to take care of you."

I stopped arguing and ceded the point to him knowing that I would never win the argument of which gender was stronger. Together, we packed my chest and shrunk each item so that it would lie perfectly and not wrinkle on the voyage to Gaelen Castle and as my twelve gowns flew into the chest, I looked over at Eric's intense concentration on the dresses, as if he willed himself not to think of anything else. We finished in less than ten minutes and I found my room entirely empty, save for the dressings of the bed and the furniture that remained in the room. Each diamond necklace, textbook from my school days, hair net and hood was carefully tucked into the chest and I took the opportunity to sit on my bed and look around.

With a large sigh, I fell back on the bed and heard Eric say, "Your Majesty, we really must be going," at which I sat forward on my forearms and looked at him straight.

"Eric, we're not leaving until I clear something up with you. You're going to sit on the chaise there and hear me out and we'll leave when I am finished. Understood?" I commanded, finally using the power that ran rampant through my veins.

He nodded in submission as he stepped over to the crimson sofa and I spoke again. "Now, do tell. You were always kind, sweet, and nice. What happened? Something's changed within you. I can hear it in your voice, I can feel it in your actions."

"Elizabeth, you've never been on the front lines of a war. You don't understand the terror that your men face each day. It changes a man. Completely."

"That doesn't mean that you can lose the personality that you had at Hogwarts. The boy that I loved doesn't seem to exist anymore. His fun-loving personality has gone. And it has been replaced with sadness and despair. I don't like what you've become. I miss the old Eric. The one that I loved with all my heart. The one that swore to me that we would marry and love each other forevermore. That Eric."

"Elizabeth, I don't know how to tell you this...but,"

"But what Eric? Speak, now."

"Elizabeth. I've realized in the past thirteen years that the hopes of us marrying are nonexistent. You have to lead the lords. The highest position I can hold is a Chancellorship."

"Have you any idea of what's going on in muggle England? My sister, my hateful ambitious sister. A woman of your social status. Perhaps lower and a woman no less. She is now the Queen of England. And you're telling me that it will never work."

"What about that potion that you make? Hmm? I know what you were doing this afternoon Elizabeth. Anne needs the potion to remain as Queen."

"Anne needs the potion because Henry doesn't know who he loves. I know whom I love. Or loved. And I loved you. We swore, Eric. We swore," I pleaded with tears in my eyes.

Eric rose from his seated position and sat down beside me upon the luxurious bed. Enveloping me in his arms, I found myself sobbing into his olive velveteen doublet as we sat alone in the silent room. Just the way that he hugged me reminded me all the more of our school days and I only began to cry harder as I found myself comfortably lodged in the position that he so often held me in. Eric laid a soft kiss on the top of my head and rested his cheek upon my forehead, his hands removing my hood and the pins that held my hair in its' position, allowing my light chestnut curls to tumble down my back.

Memories began flooding back to me, how we would sit and talk for hours in the common room, library, even forbidden forest in positions nigh identical to this, his hands playing in my hair and his lips placing soft kisses upon mine. The actions of the two carefree teenagers that lived in the castle were wild and untamed, just the way we liked them. Everything we did was spur-of-the-moment. And not a single aspect of the relationship we shared was modest. From our powerful arguments to our passionate loving times, we were always two who went overboard.

I returned to the present to feel his tender lips kissing away the tears that were rolling down my face. Biting down on my lower lip to prevent any more droplets from spilling down my tearstained cheeks, I held Eric closer, as if he were my lifeline in the whirlpool of memories that I was drowning in.

"Eric, we can't live like this anymore," I sniffled. "We cannot live as friends. I'm sick of feeling the love for you and knowing that I cannot have you. I'm begging you, make the decision for me. We may live either as lovers and anticipate our marriage, or not at all. It's your choice, Eric."

"Elizabeth, I always want to be here for you. But my status-"

"Have you not noticed that I care not about your status? Have you not realized that yet? Eric, I wish to become your wife. I wish to marry for love, not for status. I am a woman in my own right now. I am a queen, and I have been raised to do what I know feels right. And if you will still have me, I would be overjoyed to become yours. Simply yours.

"And if you need help deciding, just think. Remember back to that joyous year we had fifteen years ago. When I was just sixteen and you, seventeen? Remember? The nights in the forest, the discoveries we made, the promises we gave to each other? Do you remember?

"We've both grown. We're older now and we have each felt the emotions that run through our bodies. So I leave the decision to you. You may marry me, or leave me."

"Whatever your wishes, Your Majesty," Eric whispered softly into my ear.

"There's one more catch there, Eric," I added.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"You are no longer allowed to refer to me as 'Your Majesty,' 'Your Highness,' nothing of the sort. I am to be either 'Elizabeth,' 'My love,' or any other, but nothing that distinguishes me as your Queen," I stated steadfastly.

For the first time in six years, I saw Eric crack the golden smile that I loved so much. The shining white teeth and the twinkling eyes returned so quickly to the face that always seemed to be filled with gauntness.

"And there's one more," I corrected. "From here on out, you must smile at least once a day. And not the fake smile that you give the lords. I want the real smile. The true smile. The smile of a lover." And as I said this, I waited for the reaction that I knew would follow. And sure enough, I began to hear a slight chuckle from the depths of Eric's soul. "Now that's what I mean!" I exclaimed happily as he smiled once more.

"Now, kiss me, you fool, or I shall never have you again," and as the words spilled forth from my mouth, I felt his soft lips touch mine, lightly at first, but increasing with passion as the moments passed. Our responses to each other were as accurate as the day that he graduated and left me alone. The intensity of desire had returned. I couldn't seem to get enough of his taste, enough of his scent, just enough of him. But the moment came where I knew that I had to break away, or else I would never stop, and when I stopped the kiss, I found myself to be panting, nearly weeping for more of him. Yet tonight wasn't the night.

With a deep sigh, I stood at the end of the bed and surveyed my surroundings one last time. "You know what?" I said facing Eric. "I've always wanted to do this to my room, yet never had the courage to do so alone. But I think tonight is the opportune moment."

"Do what? I'm afraid I don't follow," Eric answered.

I smiled with a knowing smirk of what I would do and how the interpretation would be read. With my wand in hand, I created the spell that I would need. "_THIS!_!" I shouted as I spun around 180 degrees and with my arm over my head. A jet of lavender light erupted from the tip of my wand as I pitched the enchantment at the hearth. Before mine own eyes, I saw the crest of the Everard clan clearly engraving its self in the solid stone. And as I walked towards the fireplace, I rubbed my fingers along the perfectly etched outline, filled with the Lily that appeared so lifelike that I nearly attempted to sniff it.

"It's perfect. It's the perfect last reminder of my history," I said and stepped back to admire my handiwork.

"Elizabeth, your history is only starting. Think not of this as the end, but as the beginning," Eric said, stepping alongside me. "Have you finished everything?"

"Yes, Yes I do believe so."

"Then our time of departure has arrived. So I ask of you, carriage, or apparation? The room is locked and the walls silenced. You may do what you wish."

"I'd say we apparate. I've always wanted to apparate within the castle just to prove I could. Come along," I beckoned and took his hand as if we were still the dashing young teens that we once were and with a loud _CRACK_, we were gone.


	5. Summer 1533 Part III

"Welcome back to Gaelen Castle, Your Highness."

I smiled for I was home again, back in the castle that had once belonged to my ancestors and to many clans of witches and wizards. As we materialized within the confines of the hand hewn slate room, the butterflies in my stomach began to flutter as I took my first steps as a permanent resident within Gaelen Castle. It all seemed so unfamiliar to me when I walked the familiar paths that lead me to the meeting hall and my bedroom. I began to step towards the more familiar path that lead directly to my chambers but Eric grasped my arm and held me back.

"Milady, I bid you welcome to your new home. Let us walk the corridors that you know not exist and travel the castle round," he murmured into my ear and began leading me down the carpeted pathway that I never had used before.

My eyes grew in awe as I gazed upon the hall of my ancestors. Immense portraits lined the walls, each one smiling approvingly down upon me as I crossed their line of vision.

"Do you know where we are?" Eric asked me.

"We're in the portrait room, right?"

Eric nodded. "You'll find this room quite helpful. Each of the past kings and queens in your lineage has their portrait on these walls. If you ever need advice about anything, come here. They'll instruct you. They know the stories of their past and how the court was run when they were ruling. You need not heed all of their advice, for your portrait will be up there as well. You can learn from their stories as well as learning from your own experience."

The hall came to an abrupt close as we reached the far end. To my left, I looked and gasped in wonder. There, standing and smiling before me was the portrait of my parents. My mother was seated in the jeweled throne in a burgundy gown that appeared to be her gown of state. My father was standing just to the right of the throne and waving to me as well. His crimson doublet was trimmed with silver and his black hose matched the slashing in his sleeves.

"Welcome home, Elizabeth," they said to me as I continued to watch their delicate movements on the canvas. "If you ever need us, we'll be right here."

Eric turned to me and signaled for me to follow him out of the portrait room. "Do you like what you see?"

"I-i-it's wonderful," I stammered, my hand gracefully drifting over the stone walls. "Eric, why did you not tell me before about the portrait room?" I asked.

"The lords asked me not to show it to you until you officially took the throne. They think that as a woman, you can't rule the wizarding population. They were sure that if you never got the advice of your ancestors that you would cede the throne to one of them."

"And they actually believed that one of _them_ would get the throne? They're a bunch of selfish ninnies more concerned about their land than the good of the population. I would never give them the throne. This throne was passed to me by blood. And that's how it will continue."

I completed my sentence and stepped into one of the largest rooms that I had seen. The walls were of limestone and the floor was lightly covered in scented rushes. The width was over twice the size of a traditional Jousting course and it appeared as though a battle could be fought within these walls. The ceiling overhead was intricately charmed with a mural of flowing clouds that distinctly reminded me of Hogwarts. Eric caught me observing the sky with memory and interjected, "Your great-great-grandfather charmed the ceiling himself. It looks familiar, doesn't it? I believe that his schooling at Hogwarts had a great deal of influence on the design."

"My great-great-grandfather went to Hogwarts?" I asked, surprising myself at how little I knew of my family's history.

"Your entire family has gone to Hogwarts. Each and every one of them in Salazar Slytherin's house, even from the first year it was founded. Your family was close friends with Slytherin. Twas a great honor for them to study under his watchful eye.

"This room here is the Main Hall. Any feasts, balls, or celebrations you hold will be in this room. There is a book in the library of how to charm it into the outdoor gardens that I know you enjoy so. The main outdoor area is the surrounding border between the castle and the blockade walls that line the moat. This room is typically used as the gardens during spring and summer, but the gardens will be in bloom whenever you say so."

We turned and exited the room we entered, just to come around the corner and find the grand staircase that welcomed us onto the upper floor. The golden gilded handrails and cream marble steps were regal in every sense of the word. At the middle landing of the grandiose staircase, Eric turned us towards the left wing, or housing wing of the castle. I knew that somewhere along these dark hallways, a gilded door opened into the Queens chambers and another opposite lead to the Kings. The many doors were propped open, revealing blank slates of chambers, ready to be decorated when the Courtiers and Ladies in Waiting came to join the court once more. Tapestries woven with tales of knights and trolls, giants and dragons insulated the cold stone walls and the castle was newly cleaned by the house-elves that had served the castle for generation after generation, never being freed by a master, for I was the only one left binding them to the house, and today was my first actual time coming back for an extended period.

Everything felt right.

I spotted the gleaming golden door a few meters away and found myself running toward the singular familiar location in the large castle. Flinging the doors open, I skipped into the central chamber and opened the doors to my privy chamber. All was as I had left my room the last time I had left a few months ago. All was perfect.

I flopped down on the goose-feather bed that had previously only been used for when I would nap during the long meetings that the council would hold. Deeply sighing, I rolled onto my back and whispered, "I'm home."


	6. Autumn 1533 Part I

"Miss Everard! Oh! Miss Everard! It's time for your meeting!" a squeaky voice chided me as I opened my sleepy brown eyes, finding them to be staring into a pair of bright blue, owned by a small house-elf.

"Thank you Maggie. You're always the one to make sure that I get to my meetings on time. You've been such a help to me these past years."

"We are so glad to hear that you're coming to live with us Miss Everard! All of the Elves are looking forward to having the palace restored to its proper glory. We haven't had a proper master or mistress in many years," she sighed sadly.

"Well you shan't have to worry about that now. Come, help me get dressed," I beckoned. Maggie was the 'Queen's House-Elf,' deemed to serve me alone. She had already unpacked my trunk while I napped and set out my emerald gown of state that I wore to each meeting that I had with the higher lords. The bodice was beaded heavily with shining jewels that sparkled in the firelight and my slashed sleeves were offset by a deep violet satin that shone through the pleats. She pinned the silver crown upon my head where my hood would normally sit when I was just a Lady-In-Waiting. The weight of the jewels felt comforting to know that I was where I belonged and I shook my head slightly to make sure that Maggie had pinned it in correctly.

I walked swiftly to the door and as I followed Maggie through the misleading hallways of my castle, I felt like a small child, dwarfed by the immense size of the castle. I was the newcomer, the unknown. I had the same feeling when I entered Hogwarts for the first time, and the same as when I first walked into the palace of King Henry VII. But each of those times, it was just a human. An experienced human showing me the often-treaded pathways of their life. I was never alone, even as only one of four girls in my year, I was never alone. Here, locked within a castle with hallways and passages that lead to nowhere in particular, I was truly alone. I was the lone woman, the lone heir to the throne. These thoughts pounded on the walls of my head until we reached the double doors that were the central meeting hall. Maggie disappeared inside and announced my entrance as I mentally prepared for another time with the bickering Lords.

Taking a deep breath that stretched my stomacher to full capacity, I strode forward into the large circular room. In the center lay a large rectangular table with six lords standing on either side of it. The willow throne sat at the far end and I made my way around the table, greeting each lord by name and finally taking my seat at the head, allowing the lords to sit as well.

"Good Evening Gentlemen," I started, acknowledging their presence and beginning the conversation. "Tonight is a meeting of the most grave importance. Eight years this war has been going on. Each one of us has seen death. Each one of us has fought on the front lines. Each one of us has served our time. But still, the task is not completed. The country is not purged of mudbloods and half bloods. I don't ask for much. I don't even ask for the muggles to be exterminated. But we must keep our bloodlines pure, just as they do. We must rebuild the wall that stands between our two societies. The wall that those people are breaking down, generation by generation." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a twitch of movement.

"Yes, Lord Crouch, you may speak."

I could see Crouch inwardly cursing himself for the involuntary reaction to one of my previous statements. "You said all of us have fought on the front lines. There is one person in this room who has not, Your Majesty. With all due respect, you yourself have not fought on the front lines."

"As I do know, _Lord Crouch_" I responded caustically. "For if I had any say in the matter, I would be on the front lines, helping our men. But as a woman, it is forbidden for me to go into war. And may I ask if you remember the Lord who instigated that? It was indeed you, Lord Crouch. You came up with the bright idea that women cannot fight. And it was signed by each and every one of you. So if there are any objections to what I have to say, I suggest you keep them to yourself unless they are useful."

A blanket of silence covered the room and I continued speaking. "Back to the matter at hand. The war has lasted too long. We're in the eighth year. I don't want this war to last much longer. I can't watch my men be killed while I sit here safe. We must end this now."

"If I may be so bold as to interject my opinion, I would say that the easiest way to rid the world of bloodlines filled with impurities is to release the Dementors. Tell them to give all half bloods and mudbloods the kiss. They are unworthy of the title of Witch or Wizard," a man with long black hair tied back with a leather cord stated steadfastly.

"Lord Gaunt, it's quite obvious you feel so strongly about this. But have you forgotten that it is nigh impossible to control those foul creatures? Are you not sure that they would not take your own soul before hearing out your orders? No, I do not think that they would follow orders. I know that they would simply hinder our plans, rather than facilitate them."

"It is in ourselves that we must place our trust. I ask for one more thing of you good gentlemen. One final charge. Where each of you will gather all able bodied men and bring them here. Any man above the age of fourteen and under the age of sixty will fight. Together, we shall train them. Together, we shall fight."

"My Queen, who will lead the training of the men?" Lord Rowan inquired.

"Lord Aldridge will lead the training of the men. His experience in warring years is useful and I daresay that he has been on those front lines more than any of us. Lord Aldridge, do you accept?"

"As you wish, Your Majesty," was the response that echoed from the ancient in the corner.

"You shall have an assistant as well. Lord Black, you shall assist in training the men."

"Whatever your heart desires," the youth murmured, enamored with my presence.

"And the charge? Who shall lead the charge?" asked Lord Pickering, obviously angling for himself to lead the final fight.

"I shall."

"But Your Majesty, it is forbidden for women to go into war!"

"It's forbidden for a woman to sit on this throne alone as well. But here I am. I shall lead the charge."

"Your Highness, it's far too risky. You could get yourself killed! I'm afraid we cannot let you risk your life like that. Who would be your next choice, as you cannot lead the charge?"

I frowned at their impertinence. "If I cannot, then Lord Donnan will lead the charge. And he shall return. There is no option of failure. Only success. For that's what this final charge is about. It's about winning the war. It's about returning the Wizarding world to the glory it has beheld in the past when the bloodlines were clean and pure. It's about the victory," I spoke passionately.

"Where?" A voice asked from my left.

"Where, Lord Sutton?"

"Where will we train the men? Where will this battle take place?" he asked.

"We shall train the men in the Hall. It can be sized to our needs. Maggie, please get the book from the Library that includes all of the details about the Hall," I requested as the small house-elf ran off to find the book that I had asked for.

"Returning to the matter at hand, Lord Lestrange, where is the largest Mudblood and Halfblood stronghold? Where are they concentrated?"

"The impure wizards and witches can be found here," he pointed with his wand to an area that was slightly south of London. "This is where they gather. Most are close to the safety of the Royal Court. Not so unlike yourself, Your Majesty.

"However, if we want to attack, we'll need to do so here," Lord Lestrange pointed again to a castle painted to the east of Greenwich Palace. "This is their stronghold. It's their most defensible fort. If we wish to wipe out the rebel leaders, then we must exterminate them all.

"When can we attack," I pushed. "I wish to be out of this war within the year."

"Your Highness, I'm afraid that if we are to be confident in our win, that we must wait until December of 1534 or January of 1535. We will need to train the men to become experts at handling their wands. We will have to teach them how to curse, how to defend, how to use a proper shield charm depending on the jinx and curse, and when to reach for a dagger or lance. This kind of training takes time."

"So you're saying that it will take over a year to complete this training?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Y-you're okay with this?" spluttered Lord Lestrange.

"Yes. But they had better be the best damned fighters that the wizarding world has ever seen. I want them to know every curse, every jinx, every spell that you know. Whether they have gone to Hogwarts, another school, or whatnot, they must be masters. I want a minimum of two battalions of the cream of the crop. You are to use whatever tools necessary to whip them into shape. Peasants, Lords, everyone. Women must know a minimum of five basic jinxes and spells for risk of an attack from the rear by any non-pureblood. Can you accommodate that?" I demanded.

"As you wish," the Lord bowed and retook his seat.

"I-I-I'm af-f-f-fraid that the book is not there," the house-elf nervously stammered, nearly cowering in fear as she ran back into the room. "The librarian said that a man had come to retrieve the book just an hour ago," she whispered.

Leaning over I placed my arm around her shaking shoulders and whispered, "It's okay Maggie. I won't hit you. I don't know what _these_ men have been doing to you in the past," I glared, "but you shall be free from their tyranny. You are my personal elf and I decree that you shall be treated kindly. You've been a great help to me."

"Which one of you did it?" Eric demanded of the men, his eyes blazing with fury. "This castle is hers. You know better than to steal something of the Queen's. You no longer have free reign over this castle. It is hers. She lives here and she will rule here. If you wish to see her removed from this throne, please, leave now. For I know that the curse lies just outside these doors if you choose to leave. Go on! If any of you feel that Elizabeth should not be Queen, speak!"

The men seated at the table gasped as Eric stated my first name, rather than calling me his Queen, and all eyes turned to me. And yet, my eyes were on them, scanning each one of them, looking through their shallow faces into their souls. One man stood out to me as he slightly averted his eyes when I came to him.

"Maggie, we need some Veritaserum, for none of these conniving men would tell me willingly if they took the book," I spat, my eyes remaining on the singular man who refused to meet my stare. I discreetly signaled under the table to slip the potion into the drink of Lord Hurst, sitting three seats to my left and when his eyes were off his drink for a half a second, Maggie switched the goblets.

A few minutes later after Lord Hurst had guzzled half of his drink, I turned my attention to him. "Lord Hurst, have you been in the library within the past two hours?" I interrogated.

"Yes."

"Yes? Or Yes, My Queen?"

"Yes, My Queen." I could already see the potion beginning to take effect as Lord Hurst attempted to quiet the truth but found it spilling between his own lips nonetheless.

"And Lord Hurst, do you know who took my book from the Library?"

"Yes, My Queen."

"Lord Hurst, did you take the book from my Library?"

Silence.

"I repeat my question. Lord Hurst, did you or did you not take the book from my Library?"

His eyes fell downward and he clenched his teeth together. Still, the potion worked its way through the motions and I heard a meek, "Yes" flow from the corner of his mouth.

"You see? Wasn't that easy?" I asked. "Now for the real question. Why did you take the book? Answer, Man!" I erupted after he took too long to think over his answer.

"Because...Because...Because I feel that a woman is unworthy to rule over us men and that I should be put in your place on that throne. Women are weak. They are powerless and have no right to rule. It is in men that the power lies."

My eyes narrowed in anger at his response. "You feel that I am unworthy? You feel that a woman can never rule over men? I'll teach you differently," I growled, standing from my throne and removing my wand from my sleeve as I paced over to his chair. One flick of the wrist and he was hovering above the table. Another flick and he was flying headfirst towards the stone walls. The crunch of bone on slate echoed and with a final movement, Lord Hurst was reseated in his chair, not a stain of blood anywhere on his dress but a clearly visible scar was imprinting its self on his forehead.

"Remember that Lord Hurst. Remember that I am the one who commands you and you have no such right to refer to me as just _a woman._ I am not just _a woman_. I am the most powerful woman in England. Does anyone else wish to challenge my authority? Or have you seen enough of the show?" the remainder of the room was quick to mumble yes as they eagerly began eyeing the wooden grain of the rich mahogany table.

"Good. Gentlemen, we are beginning a revolution. We are the rulers of what has been lost. We will take what is rightfully ours. And we shall win this war. This meeting is adjourned and we shall meet again next month to further discuss tactics."

Slowly, the men filed out of the room, leaving me alone as I nearly collapsed into my throne, weary with the tension of the day and the frustration of the rebellious Lords. I set my head in my hands and closed my eyes while deft hands removed the heavily jeweled crown from my head.

"Thank you, Maggie," I sighed, returning to my thoughts when the weight was lifted from my head. But even though the crown was removed, the fingers continued along my neck until they rested softly upon my shoulders. A warm breath caressed my ear and as I leaned my head against the large hand that delicately touched the soft folds of my gown sleeves, comforting me when nobody else could.

A pair of soft lips began working their way along my collarbone, each one leaving a burning imprint on my skin and as they slowly made their way over the hollow of my throat, the soft brushes of the lips transformed into tantalizing kisses. I worked to keep my breathing even as my heart raced with passion when his mouth reached mine.

"Elizabeth," a rough, husky voice whispered over my ear. "Elizabeth, this isn't right. You shouldn't have to deal with the feuding Lords. You shouldn't have to deal with this war. I'm so sorry I brought you in at this time."

"Eric," I whispered, feeling his hands twisting my wavy hair into delicate ringlets. "You did the right thing. It is my duty to be here. It is my task. If you had never come to notify me that night six years ago, I wouldn't be sitting here now with the love of my life. I would be still waiting hand and foot upon Anne." My mind caught at the mention of Anne and I flashed back to where she was.

"Anne."

"Elizabeth, you only just left her. Don't tell me that you need to return for her. She is lying there in the dark confinement chamber, just as she has been dreaming of her entire life. She is carrying Henry's son. As soon as the babe is born, there will need to be no more liaisons between the muggle world and wizarding worlds. They shall have their prince, and we shall have our mastermind Elizabeth."

"Princess," I corrected.

"Princess?"

"Anne is carrying no son. Eric, I must go."

"Elizabeth, you needn't tell her that she is having a daughter! It will simply upset her and the family will never let you near any of them again. Not Anne, not Mary, not George."

"I have no intention of telling Anne that she is having a daughter. I'd much rather have Anne be surprised when she sees the fruit of her loins is a daughter. If the family finds out that Anne is having a daughter before hand, they will lock me with her until she conceives a son. Oh, to be a fly on the wall during the birthing."

"Elizabeth, please don't go."

"Eric, I must do this. Not for the good of Anne. But to leave my mark on history."

"If you must go, then I'm coming with you. We're not getting separated again. I cannot risk you being detained there."

I found myself snuggling into the warmth of his embrace, which now included my shoulders and torso. "I've no problem with you joining me," I murmured. "It's only making me happier that you're coming. I never want to be separated from you again."

Together we rose from the throne and when I turned to face him, he captured my lips in a resonating kiss and in the split second that we broke apart to breathe, Eric whispered almost silently in my ear.

"Marry me."


	7. Autumn 1533 Part II

September 6. I had put off returning to the court of King Henry's Court for a week and a half. Still, I knew what had to be done. What I needed to do to secure my place, not only in my history, but in the history of the rest of the world.

Together, Eric and I apparated into the room that we had left just eleven days previously. The door was locked, just as we had left it and there, above the hearth, was my crest. Yet now it was not just my initials carved into it. The delicate swirls of EE and ED were beautifully merged into a vision of perfection.

"Come on," I said, tugging at the hand of Eric, leading him towards the exit and unlocking it as we reached the door at the end of the hallway. I tucked my wand into my sleeve and Eric slid his into the breast pocket within his jacket. When we stepped into the hallway, with sunlight pouring in through the arrow slots, the emergence of old friends and acquaintances was heartily welcomed.

"Oh! Elizabeth! When did you get here? Who is the beau? I heard you were sick! Are you okay?" were only some of the questions that I was pummeled with when we passed amongst familiar faces and voices. Nodding and smiling to all of them, I hastily followed my instinct and made my way to George's room. A swift knock on the door and a shout of, "Just a moment!" later, the door was opened and a slightly disheveled George stood before me, shirt untucked, breeches hastily tied.

"Elizabeth!" George exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight brotherly hug before kissing me chastely on the lips.

"Oh, George. It's been so strange not seeing you every day!" I cried in response, hugging him just as tightly as he hugged me. "How have you been?!"

"Oh, pretty good. Anne in confinement is the most freedom that any of us have had in the past six years."

"I see you've been keeping busy," I whispered when I saw Sir Francis coming around the corner from George's privy chamber. "George, you are being careful, yes?"

"Elizabeth, I couldn't be more careful if I tried," George attempted a lighthearted chuckle.

"I just don't want you to get caught. If you're arrested, I don't know how the Boleyns would survive without you." A cough behind me reawakened my senses. I extended my hand behind me and I felt the large hand grasp mine, reminding myself of why I was back in this despicable court.

"Eric, Sir Francis Weston. Sir Francis, this is Lord Eric Donnan."

"Lord Donnan?" Sir Francis questioned.

"Umm, yes. He's from the Scottish territories. He also happens to be my advisor of sorts."

"Pardon me for asking, but a miss needing an advisor? Surely you're not in some sort of cult..." Sir Francis pondered.

"No Sir Francis. I am not a part of anything illegal. Worry not for me. I can perfectly defend myself.

"Lord Donnan also happens to be my betrothed."

"Oh Elizabeth! You're betrothed!"

"Yes, George!" I squealed, kissing George on the cheek. I smiled sheepishly as I did so and turned to capture the lips of my beloved. "Don't worry, Honey, I love you too."

"An honorable love," I heard George mumble sadly. "If only we were so lucky," he continued, gazing deeply into Sir Francis' eyes.

"We're all going to hell anyways. We might as well enjoy the time that we have left," I responded, averting my eyes from the intimate scene that lay before me. "Come on, Eric. Let's leave them to their privacy. It's hard enough to get a private moment in this castle as is." With a last glance over my shoulder, I saw a glimpse of the two royal knights locked in a battle other than that against a foreign enemy.

Together, we stepped out of George's privy chamber and returned to the halls of the castle, turning down this hallway and that. My knowledge of the castle was comforting, and I found myself eagerly hating the lazy life of a courtier. Slow walks through the hallways, anonymity always kept by the unfaithful friends that followed and the flagrant show of wealth was all too familiar. My mind was bored by card games and talks of marriage now. It was all I could do to stop myself from turning to Eric and begin bringing up the War. But I knew I had to keep up appearances and instead turned my attention to the couples kissing in hidden alcoves, shamelessly rubbing themselves on each other in broad daylight. I was sickened by their blatant actions and averted my eyes when we rounded the corner to the Dining Hall.

I frowned upon the fiery sconces and heavy tapestries that adorned the once heartwarming room. Their once peaceful glow and art was forgotten after the splendor and magnificence of the Great Hall at Gaelen. A surprising visitor greeted me at the door when I walked in.

"Elizabeth, my dear. How are you doing?!" a jovial voice rumbled from above me. I nearly bit my tongue to the point of bleeding when I looked up at the plump face that belonged to King Henry VIII. I quickly swept into a forced curtsy, inwardly fuming with the fact that I was as royal as he, and yet, I was required to act as though he still had complete and utter power over me. When Eric rose from his bow, our eyes met only for a brief moment, communicating the need for us to once again, keep up appearances and hide our royal status. I used the moment to remind him to keep his hand off of his wand. Henry would likely make some advance upon me I couldn't let Eric hex him to oblivion.

In this court, I was still known as Elizabeth, Marquess of Hamilton, oh and gentlemen, she's S-I-N-G-L-E. The rude remarks were nothing from the ordinary for me, but Eric was not used to the brusqueness of this court. At Gaelen, I kept the men in line. But here, I had no power.

Henry swept me into a deep hug and attempted to bury his face along the low neckline of my dress. My bosom, although small, had pleased Henry at one time, and he rarely forgot a woman that he loved. But I had forgotten him, for I had never loved him. I had forgotten about the torment and turmoil of the court, and I had forgotten the status quo.

A low growl sounded from behind me and I knew from the sound of it that the noisemaker was no dog. Eric's feral growl only was heard when he was in protective mode. He was my bodyguard and to him, King Henry was a visitor upon his territory. And an unwelcome visitor at that. I motioned subtlety for him that King Henry was indeed welcome in my bosom and the growl turned possessive. The voice resonated throughout that hall and while I knew that Eric was waiting for me to push King Henry away, the jealousy that was building inside him would eventually spur him to attack Henry and I couldn't let that happen. Still, I had to give Henry as much time as possible for us to avoid suspicion.

Not long after the dialogue screaming in my head to stop Henry quieted, Henry attempted to slide a hand down my stomacher and he knew he crossed the line when I pushed myself backwards towards the wall and the safety of Eric.

"Milord, I'm sorry, but I cannot."

"And may I ask why?" Henry questioned in a huff.

"Milord, I am betrothed. I'm afraid I'm off the market."

"But your future husband isn't here," Henry said, eyeing the crowds and stepping towards me again.

"Ah, but Your Majesty, he is here. Eric!" I called, trembling with the effort to remain upright when the heady fumes wafting off of Henry were pushing me towards unconsciousness. Immediately, Eric stepped forward and placed a defensive hand around my waist.

"Eric, His Majesty King Henry Tudor VIII. Milord, this is my Betrothed, Dr. Eric Donnan, of Scarborough."

"A doctor? What is your field of study?"

Eric was quick with thinking on his feet. "Philosophy."

"A most fascinating subject."

"Truly." The tension in the air was reaching a point of unbearable levels and Eric's wand hand was twitching, as if he was debating whether or not to use it.

"He's not worth it," I whispered softly and Eric nodded in response.

A long silence ensued while the two men held a stare-off as if competing for my heart. The quiet was broken by Henry who, as he turned off to leave, cried over his shoulder, "You take care of her! She's a real pleasure."

"Mmmmm, don't I know," Eric murmured back, throwing the unorthodox status of our relationship in the face of the man who broke it daily, yet never had it broken against him.

"Eric!" I gasped, knowing that our relationship here was fresh news and that I would be swarmed with questions about the pain, the pleasure, and the ecstasy that follows as soon as any of the ladies found out. I found myself to be violently yanked out of the cold hall and into the breezy hallways that lay outside.

"So now I'm a doctor, am I?"

"You're the only doctor that could ever heal me of heartbreak. The only doctor who could ever heal my everlasting needs to be cherished and loved."

A low chuckle emanated from behind me. "You enjoy tormenting me. You just love to watch me squirm." Eric murmured huskily in my ear.

"Eric, that's not true. I don't enjoy this any more than you do. I don't like to have to hide who I am."

"Perhaps not. But you love attention. And you'll take it from any man who will give it to you. But that's not going to happen anymore," Eric threatened.

"You can't stop my own brother from loving me, Eric."

"But I can stop him from releasing his affections upon you," Eric said, trailing a loose finger over my shoulder and along the top of my dress, his mouth following after. When he reached my lips, the kisses were wracked with desire, and marred with jealousy. Everything that was within reach, Eric wanted, and everything that wasn't, he didn't want to wait for. Our mouths were locked together in a battle that would last until we grew short of oxygen and in the process, the skin on my lower lip broke as Eric bit me with such force as to physically show the pain that he felt within. The salty taste of my blood mixed with the sweetness of his saliva conjured a reaction within each of us, desiring more, and unable to hold ourselves back.

Pushing me backwards until I was pressed against a wall, Eric continued to further the kiss, licking gently at my lower lip and then forcing his tongue betwixt mine. Unable to move and unable to fight, I succumbed to the passion that raged within my body and toyed gently with the malleable muscle that fought with my own. Eric's body was pressed tight against mine, forcing out any air particles that stood in our way and while his hands kept busy in my hair, my arms were wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if he were my lone rock in a deadly, thrashing sea. Every inch, every centimeter of our bodies were in near contact, only clothing blocking the way.

And onward jealousy spurred the kiss. The rough hands of my lover were slowly making their way along my sides, unable to reach my back and unable to untie the laces of my stomacher. My senses returned when his palms settled on my hips and he attempted to move his hands beneath my skirt.

"Eric," I breathed heavily. "We must stop. This is not why we're here. We're here for no other reason than to see Anne. Please, we must stop."

Eric grumbled with dissatisfaction. "You just wait, Elizabeth. When our marriage is consummated, there shall never be another man's lips on yours, nor another man's hand upon your breast. We will never have anyone but each other."

"I shall never need another man but you, Eric."

"Good."


	8. Autumn 1533 Part III

"I shall never need another man but you, Eric."

"Good."

"Come then. We must find Anne before her maids tell her it is time for her to rest once more," I laughed, stepping out of the dim, shadowed corridor and into the airier hallway. I had forgotten the tiny size of Greenwich Castle in comparison to the immense, unknown hallways of Gaelen and found myself in front of the gateway to Anne's chambers in mere minutes rather than the half hour it took me to go from the Great Hall to my chambers back home. Ignoring the ladies that loitered in the central room, I sat Eric next to the nicer of my two 'sisters,' Mary Boleyn, now known as Mary Stafford, recently married to William Stafford. I shoved my way through the throngs of women pursuing me with questions and threw open the door to Anne's birthing chamber where I was greeted by a very surly pregnant woman, lying alone in the silent chamber, awaiting her fate.

"Oh, so it's you. What are you doing here? I thought you were _too busy_ in that play castle of yours," Anne snapped.

"What a predicament your ambition has gotten yourself into. There you lie, silenced with the torment that is childbirth while all around you, we live in grace and glory. Your entire family is better off with you in this dark hovel of a chamber. No windows. No light. Not even a breath of fresh air. And here I am. Your 'ungrateful, despicable freak of a sister.' Freshly betrothed and in love no less! You married for ambition, Anne. And now you're stuck with a man who can never make up his mind. Without me, you're nothing. Without that potion, you're nothing. Have you been administering the potion while you're in this...place? I'm guessing not since his attentions have been turned towards Madge Shelton of late. Oh, not so eager to hear that, eh? Yes, the newest Boleyn pawn is Madge Shelton. How eager she must be to keep the King's eyes away from you so that she can claim your position on the throne," I growled.

"I told your future then Anne. Perhaps you remember cursing me for being a heretic at the time. Or perhaps your memory doesn't stretch that far. You can call me a heretic all you wish now Anne. But I'm only a heretic when I'm here, at this infernal court. Back at my home castle, I am leader above all. I have surpassed even your ambitions and I have an infinitely higher level of power than you. Your ambition has gotten you nowhere. Here you lie, a false Queen of England. Bound to follow her husband's every whim. All for the good of your _son_," I spat. "Well, what if you don't have a son. What if the child you carry is in fact, a daughter?"

"_Don't say that._"

"I can say whatever I like. I am a true queen. Not an imposter like yourself. I can tell you if the baby that you're carrying, that you've tried so hard for by eating asparagus stems, praying to G-d, doing everything that is within your meager powers, is not a son?" I watched Anne shudder in horror and bare her teeth. "You do know that I have the power to determine the sex of the baby, even with it being this close to the time when the baby is to be born.

"Believe it or not Elizabeth, we are still related. _My_ family took you in as a small helpless child and you have not repaid your debt."

I chuckled with malice embedded in my throat. "Anne, I have more than _overpaid_ my debt. If it weren't for me, you would never have worn those dresses that caught the king's eye when you first came here. If it weren't for me, you would simply be an insignificant lady-in-waiting and Katherine would still be queen. If it weren't for me, you would never be lying in this birthing chamber with a child of King Henry VIII in your belly. I got you to where you are. If not for me, this family wouldn't be where it is. In fact, I think your family owes _me_ now."

"And what do you want me to do? Scrub your feet? Kneel at the edge of your bed and pray for you? Henry would never stand for it."

"Something as insignificant as that would not be worth the blood and sweat that I have put into this family's ambition. I want something more. I want to be forever remembered in the Boleyn family. In the history of the world. I want to be commemorated yearly."

"You want me to suggest making you a saint in the church? I wouldn't mind watching you be crucified or killed on a Catherine Wheel..." Anne snarled.

I removed my wand from the inner folds of my sleeve. "No Anne. I want something more than that," I paused, holding the tip of it to her swollen abdomen. "A simple incantation is all I need to ensure that this baby's sex is a female and down would fall the Boleyns. Do you want me to do that?"

"Never!" Anne yelped protectively, holding her hands over her bulging stomach.

"Then promise me this and I shall never lay a wand upon the child that you carry."

"What do you want Elizabeth!"

"If you should happen to have a daughter," I replied while Anne hissed at the insinuation that her child would be a girl. "If you carry a daughter in your womb, I want you to name her Elizabeth. Should you have a daughter and you name her after me, she shall be the most remembered Queen in England."

"NEVER! Why would I name my child after you!"

"Because Anne, I could even kill your child in your womb. I could leave you barren for eternity. And Henry will have to look elsewhere for a son. He would forget you and the Boleyns and move onto a more fruitful family. Perhaps even marry Bessie Blount. She got a son off him, didn't she?"

"Henry wouldn't let that happen," Anne stated steadfastly. "Besides, you've left me enough of that potion to last me until I can find a new apprentice witch to make it for me."

"Even the potion cannot help you if you are barren."

"And how would you know?"

"Who is the witch here? Me. Who knows the most about this potion? Me. Who concocted the smelly thing for you whenever your supplies ran low? Me. You can't expect a young medi-witch to know as much about this as I do. This potion is of my creation. The directions and ingredients are written in my mind. And I will never write them down for the likes of you.

"And so, will you take me up on my generous offer? Or shall I leave you childless for eternity, thereby bringing the Boleyns down with you."

"Do your worst," Anne said shakily, her voice uneven with nerves.

Instantly, I raised my wand and as I muttered the first half of the incantation, Anne threw up her arms and shrieked, "STOP!"

"I'll do it. I'll do it. I'll name any female child that I have Elizabeth."

"I don't trust you Anne."

"Then don't."

"No, you see, I will not leave here without trusting you. I did not come alone," I said, striding over to the door and opening it to allow Eric access into the dark chamber. "Eric, _Queen_ Anne Boleyn. Anne, Lord Eric Donnan. My betrothed fiancée."

"You trust him more than your own sister!?" Anne roared.

"Anne, we are not sisters. I am of purer blood than you in every sense of the word. My lineage is not a history of royal whores and sailors. My lineage is a history of noble conquerors. And yes. I trust him much more than you. He has given me reason after reason to trust him.

"Lord Eric Donnan, will you be our Bonder?" I asked formally.

"I will," he responded.

"B-b-b-bonder?" Anne spluttered furiously. "What is this about a bonder?"

"There is to be an unbreakable vow between us, Anne. There needs to be at least one witch or wizard doing the bonding, known as the bonder, and at least one witch or wizard who is in the vow. I told you Anne, I don't trust you. You cannot break this vow. No matter how hard you try," I returned, stepping forward and sitting beside her on the luxurious bed. I took her small, delicate hands in mine and looked into Eric's eyes, nodding for him to begin the spell. He placed his wand upon my fingertips and my eyelids fluttered as I spoke the words that would tie Anne to this agreement, forever.

"Will you, Anne Boleyn, promise to name your daughter, should you have one, in memory of me, Elizabeth Everard? Will you tell all who inquire as to the origin of her name that you named her in honor of you honorable sister that you respect and endear so that England can have a part of her in their legacy as well?" I asked as three cords of white-hot rope shot out from the tip of Eric's wand, waiting for Anne to agree and bind our hands together.

"This is idiotic," Anne grumbled.

"Do not forget that I have the power to drag this family down to where it once was so many years ago. This isn't just your ambition you're playing for. This is your life. You know as well as I do that if Henry doesn't get a son off of you that he will lose interest and execute you."

"He wouldn't."

"You would be surprised to know what I can read about others. Agree now, or forever hold your peace and die a most painful death."

"I will," Anne whispered with bitterness in her voice as the three coils found their way around our hands and formed an indestructible cable. After thirty seconds or so, the lines disappeared into the darkness and our hands were freed.

"I know the look in your eye, Anne. I know you're thinking of ways to name your child after yourself. To try to escape this clause. To embody your own glory rather than allow your child to gain their own immortality. 'Queen Elizabeth.' It has a lovely ring to it. Don't you think? It's the proper name of a ruler. One who is merciful, but strong. A lover, and a fighter. Don't you agree, Eric?"

"A lover and a fighter indeed. One who will touch the heart of millions and will be loved by her country. Just as you are, my love," he prophesized.

"Oh, I've heard enough of your sickening love talk. I'm going to find a way out of this Elizabeth. You just wait and see."

"No Anne. I don't think so," I laughed menacingly. "At least not by the time that you have that daughter."

-------------------------------------------

Night gave way to morning and Anne's contractions had started in the wee hours. Soundly asleep, I was, lying peacefully in my oaken bed with the heavy velvet curtains drawn, held in a warm embrace by Eric who was sleeping alongside me.

"Lady Elizabeth!" A femine voice called outside the door. "Lady Elizabeth! Queen Anne is calling for you!"

Grumbling, I rolled out of bed and tied a fur robe around my shoulders to guard me against the icy morning wind. Eric's hands grasped for me when I stood but with a swift kiss and a quiet murmur of my destination, Eric begrudgingly let me go.

Completely exhausted, I lead the young servant to the door to Anne's room. A bloodcurdling scream echoed from within and I rolled my eyes. _'So lives Anne Boleyn, Queen of England,'_ I thought to myself and stepped inside the torture chamber.

The fire in the hearth kept the intense heat in the room overbearing while Anne writhed in pain on the birthing stool, the midwife kneeling by her feet. Sweat poured off of Anne's brow and the grimaces of childbirth were permanently etched across her face. The contractions were coming quicker and quicker and the baby was due to be born any moment. The poor midwife was subject to all of Anne's curses and anger and had a slight cut on her arm from when Anne threw one of the glass vases across the room. Henry sat calmly beside Anne, his pudgy hand firmly gripped by Anne's pallid delicate one.

"Your Highness, push! Just a few more!" the midwife encouraged as Anne threw her head back with a spine tingling screech.

"HERE. IS. YOUR. SONNNNNNNNN!" She shrieked as she gave her final push and the waiting hands of the midwife caught the child falling towards the ground beneath the birthing stool. A quick snip of the scissors cut the umbilical cord and the midwife dried the baby with a clean blanket.

"Let me see it. Let me see my beautiful son!" Anne yelled, her hands reaching out for the small child. The midwife held the babe out for Anne to take, nearly cowering in horror of what Anne's response would be. But no verbal response emanated from Anne. Her hands shook when she looked at the sex of the baby and she immediately shrank away from the newborn child, almost dropping it on the hard stone floor in the process.

"I-i-i-it's a girl." Anne shuddered and stared directly at me. "You knew. YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO HAVE A GIRL!"

"Not now Anne," I hushed.

"Yes now! I want everyone to know that you're a freak! A witch! A heretic! Henry! Look at her! Look at the glint in her eye! There was a boy in my stomach yesterday! I could feel it! She turned our baby into a daughter! A useless daughter!"

"A daughter is wonderful, Anne. Any child from you is wonderful," Henry soothed.

"She's a witch! I promise you! She's a witch! She has a wand in her sleeve! I've seen it!"

"Anne, you're delirious. Please, come back to your bed and rest. The midwife will clean up. The servants will clean up. You need to sleep."

"I don't need to sleep! I need her to be killed! Murdered!"

"Anne, she's your sister. She's never been anything but good to you."

"You've never seen her dark side, Henry. You've never seen the true Elizabeth. She's a cheater and a foul temptress. She's a witch! I swear!"

"Anne, please, lay back. Sleep. We'll name our beautiful daughter tomorrow."

"That's just it. She's cursed me to name our daughter after her! She made me promise with some form of witchcraft!"

"Anne, I don't believe your accusations of witchcraft. It's such an unrealistic field for your beautiful sister to be in. And I don't see any reason not to name our daughter after her. She's been such a faithful sister to you. Although I was hoping to name our daughter after my mother, Margaret, but the name Elizabeth is so beautiful, I love it. A strong name for a strong woman. Just like you Anne."

I smiled in triumph when Henry agreed unknowingly to my demands. Anne's outbursts of my witchcraft were of no worry to me, for Henry had cast them off as post childbirth delirium. I stepped over to Anne and curtsied at the edge of her bed, which now held both her and the King.

"My sister, I am so grateful that you have decided to name your beautiful daughter after me," I answered graciously. "You are too good to me."

"Elizabeth, you cursed me into this. I had no choice."

"Anne, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Elizabeth, you're going to hell. I swear it."

"Anne, you can curse me to Hell and back. But there's no way to escape this. I've been far too good to you for all these years. I'm glad that you're finally recognizing all that I've done for you. Thank you for the honor. And you too, Henry. Thank you for this honor," I said as I backed out of the room and left the presence of Anne for what I hoped to be the last time.

I slipped back into my inner sanctum and although the sun was already high in the sky, Eric lay peacefully asleep under the blankets, just as I had left him a hours earlier. I silently changed into my chocolate brown gown and struggled slightly with tying the laces across the back to their proper state, smooth and taut across my back. I left my hair down for the moment and fastened around my neck the emerald encrusted sword necklace that Eric had given me back in my fifth year at Hogwarts. I wore the trinket daily now as a reminder that I would always have someone at my side.

"Eric, Eric, come on, wake up. We're heading back to Gaelen today," I whispered loudly, gently shaking him.

"Must we leave so soon?" he grumbled.

"Eric, it's already past noon. Anne's had the baby, and it's a girl. She's blaming me for the birth of the daughter and Henry, well, he must have had some of that potion this morning because he was truly in love with her this morning. I'm guessing Anne had George slip it in this morning in hopes that he would take her side if the baby were coming."

"Take her side on what?" Eric asked groggily.

"On the naming of their child. Stop being a dunderhead and hurry out of bed. We've got places to go and people to see."

"The only place we have to go is home. But why wait until we're home," Eric said, grabbing my wrist and sitting me next to him on the bed. "Why wait at all? Now that the muggles have their heir, lets make ours."

I pulled my hand backwards, preparing to slap him but as I released my hand, he caught it with the reflexes of a trained warrior and pinned me beneath him, kissing my jaw slowly, leaving tantalizing trails behind. With my hands pinned on either side of me, Eric positioned himself so he was straddling my waist and continued his feverish absorption of the heat that was rising off of my body.

"Eric, Eric, no. No," I commanded firmly.

"Why not?" he continued kissing lower and lower on my collarbone.

"Because Eric, I said so. When I say no, I mean, NO. I am not your property. If anything, you are mine. If we are to make love, I will say when and where. And it will not be in this filthy castle filled with hopeless muggles and mudbloods. It will be in our own castle after our marriage. I'm committing myself to celibacy until our wedding. We cannot have a child born out of wedlock. I'm sorry Eric, but you must wait until after the wedding to bed me once more."

"Elizabeth, we don't know when the wedding will be. Just one more time before we stop. Just once more."

"No, Eric. Not even with a contraceptive charm or potion will we make love. I'm sorry. You must understand that I'm doing this only for the good of our people. I'm doing this only for our kingdom. The wedding will be when the war is over. I don't want to be married in fear."

"Elizabeth, you heard Lord Lestrange. The final battle won't even be until December of 1534 or January of 1535! I don't think I can go that long without you."

"Eric, you'll have to learn. I am the Queen and what I say, goes. I can trust you Eric. That's why I'm telling you this. Because I love you and I trust you." Eric turned away from me in a huff and stood from the bed, obviously frustrated.

"I just don't understand."

"If a child is born to us before we are married, you know as well as I do that the Lords will claim the child illegitimate and our future marriage invalid. I cannot have them take you down. I don't want to rule without you."

"Elizabeth, if I die on the front lines, you will have to rule without me. You will have to stay strong."

"You won't die on the front lines."

"You can't be so sure about that. The mudblood rebels are quite strong. The longer we wait to attack, the longer they have to prepare. I'm just warning you about what can possibly happen."

"Eric, you won't die. You can't die. Without you, I can't stand up to the Lords. There will be nobody on my side if you die."

"Nobody on your side? Everyone will be on your side. Every man will want to be your husband. Every man will want to be the one to marry you."

"They'll all lie. They always do. They tell me what I want to hear. You're my only advisor that I can trust. I won't rule alone."

"I'm simply saying that if I die in the line of fire, you will have to find someone else to take the position of King. Someone else to marry and someone else to father your child."

"Are you suggesting I look elsewhere?" I asked.

"Never." Eric snapped. "I don't want anyone else to have the pleasures of life that you have given me. I don't want anyone else to take you to their bed. I don't want anyone else to be the love of your life. That's my task.

"If you're so determined not to rule alone, then the sooner we marry the better. We can have our heir before the final battle and in case I fall and you refuse to rule, there will be a child to pass the crown to."

"Eric, I am not allowing my child to be born into a world of fear."

"There's no other way, Elizabeth."

"There must be. And we will find the other way."

Eric sighed deeply and stood to dress himself while I finished packing my bags. I watched the toned muscles ripple under the silky-soft skin and found myself wanting his touch, wanting his body to be claimed as mine. My breathing grew shallow and I whimpered slightly.

"It's not so easy, is it?" he asked. "Watching the one you love and knowing you cannot have them for a great deal of time. Now you know the torment I felt those first four years of school. Now you know the torment I felt during those six long years I waited for you to move to Gaelen. I would look in upon you and observe your graceful, cat-like movements and fight to keep all desire down within myself. And now we must wait another year before we can be one with each other. Another year, Elizabeth."

My mind raced with possibilities and my heart beat with rapid yearning. Still, I knew what I had to do for the good of my people. Conflicted with personal interest and good intentions, I made my decision. I stepped across the room and took his hands in my face, kissing the lips gently. "I love you, Eric," I whispered as my hands reached around for the lacings of my stomacher. "We must keep all a secret, and ensure that no baby will be born into my womb until the war is complete." I slipped the stomacher to the floor and pressed myself against his back. "But until then, just know that I love you."


	9. January 1536 Part I

Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. What did the Lords get us into? I stand here in the middle of Gravesend, Kent. Center of the mudblood Rebel cause. Nobody recognizes me, because nobody is looking for me. Each soldier cares only for themselves after a long day of fighting for the cause. If we continue to divide ourselves off of the battlefield, we will never succeed.

Each morning, we ride out on thestral back, many carrying reflective shields, each man with a wand at the very least. Everyone calls me the unknown soldier. Insane, for I carry a wand and a proper sword, having been taught how to deflect hexes and curses with the flat edge. Some go so far as to call me suicidal because I ride out in front of every charge like a proper leader. My swordsmanship lessons with Eric taught me well.

Yet not even he knows I am here. He is sure that he was training me in case the filthy rebels decided to attack Gaelen Castle. But I am here with him. And he does not know it. I see him every day, bravely leading his man into battle, and every night, returning with one less. Although he commands the top regiment, the losses are still great.

He is attached to his men, and when they lose a brother, the whole company mourns. Each day, I see a tear drop for the lost soldier, and each day, I wish that I could catch that tear and comfort the man I love.

Eric looks upon me as he would any other man, with respect and honor, but not with love. My heart breaks when I see him remove the locket that I gave him and kiss it tenderly, knowing that he wishes I was there with him.

I am sure that if he looked beyond the cropped hair and men's jerkin that he would recognize my chocolate brown eyes and impeccable techniques. But he looks upon me no more as a lover. I am a fellow warrior. Nothing more.

My mind yearns for his voice. My body aches for his touch. My soul longs for his presence.

Life grows more difficult every day.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Dinner is ready," a man from my battalion said, stepping away to sit around the warm fire that raged in this cold winter wasteland of death and despair. My eyes grew unfocused as the falling snow settled into flurries and the red streaks in the distance were covered by fresh snowfall. My men. My strong, brave men. Killed by the rebels and buried by the snow. Such a lowly burial for such honorable men. They deserve to be buried in honorable ground. Not here in this rebel environment. But this is the best we can give them. We have at least brought the bodies back to our camp to attempt to preserve them but there are so many casualties that it's impossible to keep up. My once slender arms have become muscular and toned from the consistent raising and lowering of my sword and wand. My reflexes are quick and any light I see aimed at me or any man near me is often deflected by the quick edge of my sword.

None of the men wear armor. We wear a warm cloak around our shoulders to keep warm in this freezing weather and often toss an extra blanket across our stallions back in an effort to keep them warm as well. I am thankful that Lord Crouch bred thestrals for so many years because his careful training of them have allowed us to have the advantage in many cases because we can fly above the crowds like snipers, picking off individual threats.

Of the seven top divisions, only three are privileged enough to have thestrals to ride on. Eric's careful training was enough to put me in one of these battalions. I was now living the life of a warrior. A lone soldier, not allowed to make any friends, for fear that I would become attached and then lose them. I glance over my shoulder to see my comrades munching upon their stew and bread in a most melancholy manner. Even their mealtimes have become depressed. I often choose to sit out these meals and eat on my own after the men have gone to bed.

The foul stench of disease forever hovers in our encampment. We all share tents and being a woman, I must be quite careful to hide my true identity. I place a silencing spell on myself each night to stop anyone from hearing my girlish screams of terror and my thoughts of Eric that echo through my vocal cords. During these long nights I lay on the icy ground of the field, sheltered by a flimsy piece of cloth, and think of how I got to where I am now.  
_  
I sat alone in my room, drinking in the warm sunlight that poured in through the wide window in my privy chamber. It was odd, my chambers. For the first time in many months, they were empty. Completely devoid of people. For once, there were no peasants trying to have me settle petty disputes. No lords trying to catch a bit of attention from me, no suitors coming to steal my hand._

Eric had left for the war three weeks previously, leaving me alone to fend for myself. I had asked him not long after our engagement to give me some basic lessons on how to use a full sword, a dagger, and my wand in battle.

"What use will you have for this knowledge?"

"I want to know how to defend myself if I get attacked here," I lied.

"I'll teach you some basic shield charms those should do the trick."

are dying from. I want to know what they are bringing to battle."

Eric had sighed sorrowfully at my request, obviously not wanting to allow me access to these deadly hexes. But I knew that if I were to do what I had been planning for many months, I would have to do this.

As Eric left, I pressed a small locket on a chain into the palm of his hand. "Take this," I whispered into his ear. "Inside is our initials engraved together. It's a symbol of our everlasting union. Although the actual wedding has not occurred, our betrothal is as complete as it can be and we simply need the High Lord to preside over the wedding. It will be done when you return. I promise. You will return.

"Kiss it when you miss me. It will remind you of me, and I will wear an identical necklace, for when the soft pressure of your lips touch the cold metal, I will feel the warmth on my skin. And when I press my lips to mine, you shall feel the same," I said, lifting my necklace from around my neck and kissing it softly, to demonstrate the feeling that he would receive.

With tears in his eyes, Eric caught me in his arms and held me tightly, safely, reminding me of the love that he felt in his heart, and the duty that he must do for our people. I know it was selfish of me to want to keep him at Gaelen with me but he is our best soldier and I know he is desperately needed on the battlefield. Every morning before dawn and every night after dusk, I feel the soft pressure of his lips on my heart and kiss the locket back, knowing that the false kisses will only sustain us for so long.

Stepping over to my door, I tugged the handle shut and called for Maggie. A soft pop later and she was standing beside me, her fingers unlacing every tight ribbon holding me within my gowns.

"Maggie, know this. I will never let any hurt come to you. If I do not return within four months, you are a freed house elf. You are to tell no one where I am going. Tell no one what Eric and I have been doing, locked in my privy chamber these past months. Let them think that we were rejoicing as a future married couple. But you know the truth Maggie. Let nobody else know."

Her tiny body was shaking with fear as she agreed to my commands. "B-b-but Your Majesty, where are you going?"

"I'm going to war Maggie. I'm going to fight alongside my men. I'm going to fight for what is right."

"It's so dangerous! Your Highness, you shouldn't go!"

"Please Maggie, don't turn into one of those overstuffed, pompous, heavily creamed Lords that think their position is greater than it is. Not even the Lords are to know, least of all Lord Donnan. I don't want him worrying about me. If he writes, please, write him as though you are me. I have watched you observe my penmanship and copy it flawlessly. You know how I think and you know what is right. Just act in my stead. Nobody has to know. Order food to my room if you please to keep the charade going. But ensure that nobody knows where I am," I said, Maggie's head bobbing furiously as she nodded to my requests.

"Please find me a men's jerkin, shirt and a proper pair of breeches. I must dress to fit in with my men."

"What regiment are you going to be in Miss Elizabeth? I must get you your shield"

"I'm not going to use a shield, Maggie."

"It's far to dangerous for you not to! Please, Your Highness. Please don't leave us without a form of government at all."  


_"Maggie, I'll be fine. Now, go fetch that clothing for me. I'll need to blend in. And tell **no one** of my plan," I emphasized.  
__  
The small house elf left with another pop and as soon as I was sure that she had gone, I reached into my vanity drawer, pulling out a small dagger, along with a piece of leather cording. I tied my hair back with the thin piece of leather and closed my eyes as I drew the knife across the top of the cord, severing my long hair from my head and shaking my new cropped hair freely. A few touch ups with my wand and my hair looked like that of any other man's. My eyes lingered slowly on the ponytail of long tresses that lay on the vanity and I locked the hair away in a drawer, knowing that I would never need them again. Maggie came into the room as I cast a final charm on the living area, sealing and preserving it until I came home._

And here I lie. I came here to show off my training and after the men had put me through my paces, they placed me where they felt was appropriate.

Tomorrow is the day of reckoning though. Tomorrow is the biggest battle of them all. Tomorrow decides whether we will win or lose this war.


	10. January 1536 Part II

Dawn broke with a crash as the mudblood rebellion threw a cannonball in our direction, puncturing the silent night.

"UP! EVERYBODY UP!" a loud voice roared from outside the site of my slumber. My eyes sprung awake as I saw each man leaping up from their pallet bed and reaching for their wands. But while every other minuteman was completing getting dressed, I was already in full uniform. After getting dressed in shifts, skirts, hose, sleeves, stomachers, jewelry, and all the frills of female dress, the simple hose, breeches, jerkin and doublet ensemble of a soldier made dressing infinitely easier.

I slipped my cloak around my shoulders and hid my face within the shadows of the hood just as Eric rounded the corner and stood before me. My breath hitched in my throat and I just wished to reach out and touch him, to caress his gentle features with delicate fingertips and lay my lips upon his.

"You, Sir," he called, pointing to me. "You're joining my contingent today. We've lost enough men in the past week to allow newer recruits in. Merlin rest their souls."

I nodded in eager agreement and smiled happily once he turned away. I was finally given the opportunity to fight alongside my fiancée in the battle. I stepped quickly behind him and followed him into the tent where the Lords sat discussing tactics.

"We still don't know the name of their Leader. They've been doing a fine job hiding his identity from the world," Lord Rowan contemplated.

"Perhaps too fine of a job," Lord Gaunt answered. "He must have something to hide."

"They all have something to hide. They're all traitors to the name of wizard," Lord Tournay growled.

"Yes, but they're growing weak. Their defenses are falling, their supplies in short stock. The mudbloods are growing weak," Lord Aldridge said in a gruff voice. "That cannonball was one of their last."

"Yes, but they can always transfigure some more or summon them back, can't they?" Lord Malfoy responded.

"Summoning charms have a weight limit, Malfoy. And I've examined their cannons. They must have been made with a week's cooling time. They thought that the battle was to conclude last week and they didn't want to have any extra lying around. So they didn't make any extras. Today is our day to attack. Today is the opportune day. Today, we will win," Eric spoke with passion flowing through his veins and his hand subconsciously reached up to his breast, placing a protective hand on the locket. His eyes closed momentarily as he appeared to whisper a message into the air while his hands stroked the locket.

It was as though Eric was standing beside me when I heard him say clearly, "I'll be home soon, Elizabeth. I promise. We will see each other and be free to marry soon. Quite soon. I love you. Never forget that."

My eyes dampened and I turned my face towards the wall, unfortunately catching the eye of an observant Lord Black.

"You Sir. What are you doing in here? This is a meeting for the Lords."

"I apologize, Lord Black. I simply came in to ask if I may be allowed to assist in leading the charge against the rebel headquarters."

"I'm sorry, lad, but the Queen decreed that I am to lead the charge," Lord Pickering said. My eyes flared with anger as Eric cut in.

"Pickering, you know better than to lie. The Queen ruled that I am to lead the charge. And yes, Lad, you may. I've watched you in battle and your style reminds me of my own. You're quite brave for a new recruit."

"Thank you, Lord Donnan," I said, bowing my way out of the room.

The hours ticked by slowly, each one punctuated by a loud blast of an empty charge being shot from a cannon from the mudblood refuge. The men began to assemble at around ten o'clock, each one grasping their reins firmly and sitting astride their thestral with shield in hand. I sat at the front, my wand tucked firmly within my doublet and my sword at my side, ready to attack.

Finally, every man who survived the many months of struggle that lead to this battlefield was gathered in the open field. Eric sat at the front of the mass and there I sat alongside him, waiting, just waiting for him to turn to me and give the signal to take flight.

As the sun shone directly above me, Eric turned to me and nodded with fire in his eyes. The signal. I pushed my heels into the sides of my thestral and felt the wind swell around me as we rose into the air. I allowed a short glance over my shoulder to see my army of loyal soldiers flying towards Halden Castle at breakneck pace. We looked like a large cloud heavy with rain. But no raindrops were to fall today. Instead, a storm of pureblood rage prepared to fall upon the tainted castle that lay before us. A castle once regal held by a dominant pureblood family fell to their traitorous son and his marriage to a muggle woman spawned the downfall of the pureblood society in this glorious fortress.

The massive crowd that was the pureblood army poured across the borders of Gravesend, Kent, wands at the ready and prepared to begin the battle. But there were no soldiers camped outside the walls like normally. The setting was quiet. Too quiet. A far off shot caught my attention and I heard Eric's voice shout, "INCOMING!" as a cannonball ripped through the center of the group, taking down a dozen or so members of the army with it. "FLY LIKE THE WIND! DODGE ANYTHING THAT COMES YOUR WAY!"

Immediately, the cloud scattered as curses, hexes, jinxes and spells were flung at us. A man to my right was hit with a stunning spell and a blue flame singed my hair. I stayed at the front of the pack, prepared to defend my cause and myself. I let go of the reins and wielded my wand in my left hand, along with my deadly sword in my right. Even left handed, my curses were deadly accurate and when I spotted the source of the attack, I was able to take down a small portion of the fools who assaulted us.

We landed amongst the trees circling Halden Castle and examined our surroundings while hiding in the forest. One look and it was easy to tell why the blood traitors chose this as the location of their rebellion. With a manmade lake on the far end of the stone walled Mansion and the large expanse of grass on our side, the citadel would have appeared impenetrable to any other wizard. A collection of boats sat on the edge of the lake, just waiting to be taken by the rebels to safety and I knew that if we were to succeed in this attack, we would have to destroy all their means of transportation. I looked to the back and saw that much more than half of our army had been lost or injured, leaving the Purebloods with only three hundred men in fighting condition.

Still, we gathered in the hidden grove of trees and surveyed the surrounding areas, still seated on our thestrals. I pointed out to Eric the importance of destroying the boats, as well as blockading the exits and he nodded simply, as if ashamed to have not mentioned it previously. Barking orders to the lords to relay to their own shriveled battalions, he turned to my fellow warriors and me.

"We are the front brigade. Which means if anything significant is going to happen, we're going to do it. This means that while the other companies take care of destroying all means of transportation," he nodded at me, acknowledging my familiarity of warfare. "We are going to run straight into the heart of the castle and take the top leaders. There should only be twelve or so of them, and there are twenty of us. Take down anyone in your path. Any curse is acceptable, so long as it kills them, or leaves them with no hope of healing."

"Do whatever you must, but we will be the ones who find the rebel leader and get to him. Apparating has been blocked, along with portkeys, hence the reason we rode on thestrals, and the soldiers cannot apparate out either. They are trapped by their own defenses," Eric finished, facing forward and observing the wide, impregnable castle that lay before us.

A shot rang out as a cannon released a smoky cannonball in the direction of our army.

"Last one," I said, my eyes connecting with Eric's.

"What?" he asked confused. "I-I-I'm sorry, lad. You just reminded me of someone. Someone very, very close to me. My fiancée. I just wish I could see her one last time before this. Feel the softness of her skin. Enjoy the sweet taste of her lips. Tell her how much I love her. She gave me this locket the day I left. Merlin, I miss her so much," Eric's voice cracked with emotion.

My eyes welled with tears as I could no longer hold myself back. I leaned over to Eric and softly placed my lips against his. Although the immediate response from him was the tension in his body returning, when I pushed my tongue towards him, Eric gasped and I felt the tension melt from his shoulders.

"I love you Eric," I said, pulling away from the kiss and looking deep into the dark brown eyes.

"Elizabeth? What are you doing here?" he panicked.

"Remember that meeting when I first came back to Gaelen and I said that I would lead the charge?"

"Elizabeth, it's far too dangerous," Eric plead.

"I'm leading this charge, Eric. And you're leading it with me. There's nobody I trust more on this earth."

Eric squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply. "I suppose there's no turning back now," he murmured softly. "But know that if I lose you," his voice suddenly dropped into a deadly whisper, "I will never forgive myself."

"Never again," I whispered back, pulling Eric into a warm embrace and softly kissing him one more. I turned to my men who were ogling us with curious looks spread across their faces.

"Gentlemen," I called, my feminine voice amplified by the Sonorous charm. "I stand before you and could not be more proud of the men that fight for the true cause." The men's eyes widened when they heard a female voice from the front of the group.

"Most of you didn't know that I walked beside your footsteps. Most of you thought that I was sitting at Gaelen Castle. But in my time that I've seen you here, fighting for what you know is right, I've discovered something. _We are stronger than we knew. We can hold our own against an army that is two or three times the size of ours. We can free the wizarding world of impurities today! We can, and we will!_" I spoke, my heart pounding with excitement.

"Never forget this, men. Today, you will claim your rightful place in this world in the beginning of a new era. Today, we fight, and today, we win! This is what you have all been training for. All those long months of training. This is what it is being put to use for! To exterminate these traitors to the wizarding name!

"Let us tear down these walls of false monarchy and prove to them why we have remained strong all these months, all these years. Today is your day of glory. Today is your final day of fighting. Today, we will win this war!" The men roared with cheers and the ground shook with the stomping of hooves on the hard chalk ground.

"We have but one plan, and that plan is destroy everything in your path. I want no remains left of this counterfeit castle and the phony rebellion that is lead from within. When we leave, the castle will be in ruins and each one of you will be a hero. SEMPER PURUS!" I cried, my men joining in the call of 'Always Pure,' the motto of our army.

By now, the Lords had made their way to the front of the pack and were staring incredulously at me, obviously stunned that I had made it past the ranks and had been approved by an unknowing Eric to assist in leading the charge. I turned to glare at Lord Pickering. "I'd suggest staying out of my way, Pickering, or else I may just accidentally leave you in the castle while we watch it crumble to the grown," I snapped. Pickering stepped off his thestral and bowed low before me, showing his loyalty to the Crown.

"I only thought that you would want a more experienced Lord to lead the battle."

"I know what I want, Lord Pickering. And I get what I want. I am leading this charge, aren't I? Even though it was said that it would be too dangerous? You are no longer welcome in my sight, Lord Pickering. You have defied me time after time and I'm through."

I withdrew my wand from the pocket in my doublet and aimed directly at the door to the castle. From our great distance away, one caster would not be enough to cause the door to implode but with the strength of eleven lords other than myself, all aiming at the exact same position on the door, I knew that it the portal to the castle would be shattered.

"FRACTORIS," we shouted, my female voice standing out from the rest and watched as the twelve individual jets of chartreuse light merged into a fireball, striking the door directly in the center and causing the ground to shake with the force of the impact. The oaken door shattered into splinters and my brigade galloped forward, stepping foot for the first time on rebel cobblestones.

There were men waiting at the entrance for us to enter, wands at the ready and shields out, prepared to reflect any curse that came at them. But we were prepared. None of my troop had our wands out. Instead our swords cut through the crowds like butter.

The massacre had begun.

Any man who was within swords reach was immediately destroyed, any person who stepped before us was trampled by our horses. Onward the rebels came, but by now, we weren't the only ones who had entered the castle. The mudbloods turned their focus to the fresh meat and left only fifty or so men left to finish us off. We easily defeated them, each person taking on two men and slaying each one in turn via wand or sword.

The outer courtyard was the most difficult location to cross, for that was where the majority of the foolish wizards were stationed. But once we had entered the main building of the castle, the house elves paid no attention to us passing and we were given free reign. I immediately began listening for female voices. Those who would carry on the mudblood family lines needed to be slain first. The men could take care of the male soldiers. But as I separated from the group with only three men at my side, we found that not many people resided in the castle.

I was about to give up hope searching for the women and children when I heard a faint giggle from a side door to my left. I leapt off my horse with my three comrades beside me and put an ear to the door, listening for the laughter again. The clanging of bells and whistles echoed from within and I kicked the door open, wand and sword at the ready. My eyes scanned the room and the hundred women and children within. Their joy turned to fear as they had not heard of us entering the castle and couldn't hear the sound of the thestral hooves in the hallways.

I took a deep breath and as I exhaled, I whispered, "Semper Purus." My eyes sprung open and with my brothers, we threw one curse at the crowd, our minds racing and eyes flaring. The room had filled with the stench of death and I briefly closed my eyes to keep the image from shattering me from my objective. I turned my back on the pitiful moans and strode gracefully out of the room, leaping onto my thestral and continuing my possessed journey down the hallways, blasting open each door searching for any signs of life.

My men and I stayed together until the hallway split into two. I took the younger and more agile of the three men with me and urged the others to continue down the brighter hallway, reminding them of how I could indeed defend myself. The hooves of the thestrals clattered on the stone floors and a jet of green light zoomed past my ear and struck a crystal chandelier hanging precariously from a thin rope, refracting dangerously onto the walls.

"Go!" my comrade shouted, his sword already removed from the leather scabbard. "I can take care of myself. Find the leader. Take him down!"

I immediately felt bad turning my back on a fellow soldier but the clashing of metal on metal reminded me that I was here to do a task. I continued with my furious dash down the halls, turning this way and that, exploding anything that crossed my path. Maniacal rage spurred me onward and I fought to keep my seat when I saw a door already open with the sound of spells ricocheting off of stone walls. From the sound of the battle, it seemed as though it was two on one, and the two were winning.

I leapt from my horse and poked my head inside the room to see two large men stepping around a nearly defeated man. Upon closer investigation, I saw the wand and sword of the wounded still flailing dangerously, attempting to hit one of the attackers. Crimson stains coated the sword and the wand was nearly smoking with heat from spell after spell being shot from the tip, but there was something else familiar about the sword. The dragon hilt. I could have recognized it from a mile away.

My heart screamed as I saw two jets of sapphire light erupt from the tips of the attackers wands. The wounded man was not able to move fast enough. Hit square in the chest by the rays of light, he stilled.

"NO!" I shrieked in horror, leaping into the room. I flung one curse at the man on my left and held my sword at the throat of the man on my right. "Killing an innocent has no place in my kingdom," I threatened.

"Then what do you call that!" he sneered back, pointing at his fallen mate.

"I call that revenge. We're fighting for a noble cause. To keep the separation simple and clean. Your cause is a mess. The mudbloods. You want to keep them around as your pets. You want to entertain yourselves with them. That sickens me."

"_Us_ fighting for equality sickens _you_? Guilford was correct. You are mad."

"Guilford?"

"You know him?" He spat.

"How could I not," I retorted. "Where can I find him."

"I'm certainly not going to tell the likes of you."

"Your mate is dead. And you're at the mercy of my sword. I suggest you tell. It will simply take me longer to find him if you don't. But fear not. He will die today."

"Then kill me as well. A sham of a leader, you are. A woman in battle. So unnatural for you purebloods. I thought you were all about tradition."

"We are. And the tradition is for the leader to lead the fight. Now where is he!?" A splash of spit at my feet was the only response.

"Fine," I said, raising my sword above my head and swinging it sharply into contact with my opponent. He crumpled to the ground and stilled for eternity.

I sprinted over to my fallen comrade and felt the tears begin to drip down my cheeks. I knelt over my beloved. Eric. The sword was his trademark. The dragon hilt was the crest of his family and the sword nearly had a mind of its own, being able to change shape and size at will. It was nearly identical to my own in design. Simple and elegant. Just like Eric. Beautiful even in death.

My heart grasped for any hope that remained but I could find none. Teardrops spilled over his cold face and my body shook with every breath I took. A deep cut ran across his forehead and eye, and there were large wounds in his left arm and legs. I placed my head against his breast and begged, prayed for some life to return. But no signs of life were shown. Unexpectedly, a ragged breath was drawn that came not from my throat.

"Elizabeth," it whispered. "Elizabeth." My body froze in silence as the tattered sleeve of Eric began to shift slightly.

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," it moaned.

A new hope was channeled through my veins and I pulled myself from the floor to gaze upon the angelic features of my fiancée. "Eric," I pleaded.

"Elizabeth," the voice answered. "Elizabeth, leave me here. Go to the rebel leader."

"I won't leave you, Eric. Not in this state."

"You must. Find the strength within yourself to carry on. Defeat him. Direct your sadness into passion. Remove him from power."

"Eric, I can't! I don't have the strength," I wailed.

"I know you do. It's inside you. Here," he pointed with his mangled arm to my heart. "Do this for me. Do this for your people. Do this for the future of the pureblood. I'll wait for your victory. I'll wait for you forever at the gates of Heaven."

"Eric, you can't die! I can't live without you!"

"I'm afraid I will," he whispered, fear shaking his steady voice. "I'm afraid, Elizabeth." The words stunned me. I had never heard him refer to himself as afraid and I knew the wounds went deeper than the surface.

I bit back tears and tried to handle the uncontrollable shaking of my body. How could I come out unscathed while my only friend, my only love lay before me, about to die? I had to fulfill his wishes. Not only for him, but for my people. I had to put my loyal warriors first.

"I love you, Eric," I whispered, kissing him tenderly on his split lip, tasting the salty blood striped across his face.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he mumbled. I allowed myself one last look into his chocolate eyes as I turned and fled from the room, sending a shining white eagle soaring towards Lord Lestrange, notifying him of Eric's tragedy.

I summoned all the courage I could find and continued racing down the halls, my cheeks tearstained. I found the one door that had not been touched and felt in my soul that this was the one. This was the hiding spot of the untouchable rebel leader.

I thrust the door open with my sword in front of me and my eyes burning with rage. The calm voice that spoke from within shook me to my soul and I had to remind myself that I was not among friends.

"Lady Everard. I see you're doing well," the tall man seated behind a large oaken desk said.

"Sir Edward Guilford. I'm surprised. I never would have guessed that there was magic running in your unworthy veins."

"Unworthy? Miss Everard, I'm afraid it is your veins that are unworthy."

I ignored the insult and responded, "I am no longer a Lady, _Sir_ Guilford. I am queen."

"A queen dressed as a man? How unusual," he sneered, his grey eyes looking down upon my presence.

"I didn't come here to talk," I snapped, slamming the door behind me and locking it with a charm.

"I didn't think so. You came to see me killed."

"No. I didn't come to see you killed. I came to kill you. Your cause is defeated."

"Bodies of your soldiers line the walls of this castle, Miss Everard. It is an even massacre. We have both lost men."

"We have lost more than just men. We have lost the greatest wizards of our time."

"Then I suggest we call off the fight. Compromise."

"Never. Why would I compromise with a man such as yourself."

"Because of our history together, Elizabeth. I never treated you anything but well when you were at Court. God knows I treated you better than your own family did."

"Like I said. I have no urge to compromise with you." Our eyes met and his wise grey eyes met my youthful brown. We remained standing, our bodies still as statues as we each contemplated a path of action. Guilford's was obvious. Unite the two causes and have _him_ be the "democratic" ruler of the society. Mine was obvious as well. A duel to the death.

Before Guilford had a chance to speak, I grasped the silence. "Sir Edward Guilford. I challenge thee to a duel. No seconds. No shields. Simply a wand and a sword."

"A duel? Miss Everard, You don't really think that an elderly man like me would accept to a duel."

"Guilford, I know you are just as limber and as quick on your reflexes as you were twenty years ago. Your lies don't fool me. I won't take it easy on you. I won't give myself up to anyone."

"Fine then," he responded in a clipped tone. "Wands and swords only. No shields."

"None whatsoever."

"Then let us begin," he stated, stepping forward and crossing his sword and wand slightly above his head and bowing to me as he drew them apart towards the ground. I followed suit and resumed my impeccable posture, my right hand now holding a rapier crossed slightly at the tip with Guilford's own, and my wand gripped tightly in my left hand, prepared to fire any curse I wished.

Slowly, our movements lead us in a circular path, crossing one foot over the other as we each waited for the other to make the first move. A soft ping would echo when the tips of the blades tapped together and my eyes never left Guilfords'. Tension built and compounded as time passed and I acknowledged that if this was ever to happen, that I would have to make the first move.

With reflexes quick as a cat, I lunged forward and thrust my sword at his right shoulder. He deflected the blow with a parry from his sword and proceeded to drive his blade towards me. The force of his assault nearly pushed me onto my feet but I regained my balance and lunged forward with another advance, my wand ripping his sword out of my way. I propelled myself forward with another thrust to his ribcage, also parried with his sword, but while his hands and mind were kept busy, I used the moment to throw a momentary curse at him, flinging him against the stone wall. The collision against the wall made the table shake slightly and Guilford slipped to the ground in unconsciousness. I stepped forward to finish my task to see him stumble to his feet, a large cut staining his brown hair a sickly red.

While Guilford regained his feet, he took the moment to cast a jinx in my directing, missing narrowly. My sword deflected the spell and I parried his next assault across my back, my sword directed from my upper right shoulder to my left leg. I turned forward to attack him as well but his blade caught mine causing my advance to become a parry as I dodged the weapon. Removing my sword from the entangled mess, I thrust forward and caught Guilford's waist, a sound notch began to fill with the fluid of life and the half a second that I smiled at his injury, I was hit by a curse from him, slicing open the left sleeve of my jerkin and opening a deep gash in my bicep. I gritted my teeth against the pain and flew full force into another attack.

_Thrust. Parry. Thrust. Thrust. Parry. Parry. Parry._ Thrust was all that was running through my mind with the clash of metal as he struck me with his sword in my right quadricep and I managed to slice a split in his ankle.

My youth and dexterity was my greatest advantage here, and although Guilford was quite agile for his age, he was no competition against my instinctive reactions. The match had lasted barely six minutes when I had him cornered in the shadows, his eyes staring at me, wandless and swordless. I proceeded to throw curse after curse, crucio after crucio at him, to make him suffer for the emotional distraught I was going through after watching Eric suffer so.

Finally, the top of my sword rested dangerously at the base of Guilford's throat, a thin line of blood appearing along the edge of the blade. Helpless and weak, Guilford's eyes were pleading.

He was begging for death.

I couldn't say that I could blame him. Ten or twelve rounds of crucio are enough to make any man beg. But he was at my mercy now. I could dispose of him as I pleased.

But looking into his stormy eyes, I was reminded of my time at court. Guilford has always been kind to me. He had stayed at court to try to remind me of the goodness in the world. He had been waiting for the opportune moment to approach me about my position. To try to bring me back to the side where equality reigned, and blood had nothing to do with status.

Guilford was a good man, through and through, when I thought about it. I couldn't just kill him. There was so much more that he could do. The memories gave way to visions of the present, each one flashing before my eyes momentarily as the pictures of the pureblood army, the conniving Lords, even Eric lying near death on the floor attempted to flee my mind.

But I clung to my memories and shut out all thoughts from my head.

"Guilford, I did not know you were an accomplished Legilimens."

"Look at what you've done, Elizabeth. You've brought an old man to his knees, begging you for mercy."

"I keep my memories Guilford. Nothing can take them from me," I said, pushing him from my thoughts once more.

"There is still a chance you can save him, Elizabeth."

My hopes soared but I kept my face blank. "How?" I asked, carefully masking the foolish optimism in my voice.

"You'll need to let me go and give me back my wand."

"Never. You would run," I snapped, carefully digging the tip of my blade slightly further into the delicate skin of his neck.

"Do you think I can run in this condition?" he asked, motioning to his injured body.

"Frankly, yes. You would run. I know you, Guilford."

"Then your beloved will die."

My heart was torn. The hope of saving Eric was immense, almost too strong to pass up. But Eric's last wishes resurfaced and told me otherwise. _You must. Find the strength within yourself to carry on. Defeat him._My eyes cold, I plunged my sword into the heart of Sir Edward Guilford.

"So you've made your decision. Please it be a good one," were his last words as his eyes faded shut.

With a cry of anguish, I pulled the bloody dagger from the abdomen of my foe and felt the tears streaming down my face while I watched the crimson stain grow. I had purged the world of the mudblood leader. Alone.

Despite the sharp pain in my waist from a deep notch made by Guilford's sword, I made my way back to the great stone room where the body of Eric Donnan lay. With a heavy, labored breath, I pushed open the heavy wooden door to the stone tomb. The fiery sconces shrouded the room in mysterious darkness and the architecture was foreboding in the flickers of firelight.

But through the shadows, I looked to the center of the room where the cerise stain discolored the stone floors. The blood was still fresh, but the body was gone. Standing alone, I crumbled to the floor, hunched over the burgundy blotch.

Silence.

Only the harsh sobs emanating from me broke it.

The cold slate was harsh on my injured knees, the air tainted with the aroma of freshly spilled blood, the scent overpowering in the small chamber. And through the searing heat, I shivered. My body began shaking uncontrollably from my tears and the longer I stayed stooped over the last known location of Eric, the move violent the tremors became.

My body was going into shock, my mind as well. I looked inward for the strength that Eric said was inside me, but found all courage disintegrated. My linen shirt was ragged and had slashes through which my open lacerations could be seen. My doublet was now turned scarlet from the blood of my comrades and the soft velvet was prickly from sweat and other life fluids. My black breeches were sliced open as per usual during a proper duel and my black leather dragon hide boots were quickly becoming covered in dust as I remained motionless.

Footsteps echoed through the hall and paused at the doorway to the room. Slowly, my eyes brimming with tears, I turned to face the intruder.

In the doorway stood Eric, perfect and beautiful as an angel. His soft skin was flawless and the vision reminded me of why and how I fell in love with him. I rose slowly from my crouched position but stumbled as I stood. The amount of blood that I had lost during the final battle was finally taking its toll. As I swooned gracefully to the floor, I only remember Eric catching me just inches above the ground and placing a soft kiss on my lips as I faded into unconsciousness. 

-------------------------------------------

I awoke three days later in my bed at Gaelen castle. Eric was pacing nervously around the room and Maggie was running around like a mad house-elf. I shifted slightly in the overstuffed bed, only to find that any movement was hindered by an overabundance of pillows safely keeping me tucked in. The subtle movement was first seen by Eric, who sprinted over to my side and called to Maggie.

"She's alright Maggie! She's alright," he exclaimed, his voice cracking with tears of joy.

"Eric, what happened?"

"Oh Elizabeth! I was so scared when I walked into the room. I thought we had lost you!"

"H-h-how did you get back to your feet? Last I clearly remember of you is of you lying on the stone floor where I collapsed. You said you were afraid. Eric, was that true?"

"Elizabeth, I truly thought that I was going to die. The two ruffians attacked me from around a corner and used a mirror to throw spells at me, disabling me to see the direct location of them. They cornered me in the room and left me to die. Next thing I knew, you were there beside me and they were nowhere to be seen."

"They were there," I mumbled, chuckling lightly and wincing from the aching pain in my side. "They just weren't moving."

"I should have known you would get them. How are you feeling?"

"Could be better. But could be worse. Much worse. Is it always this bad coming out of battle?" I asked.

Eric laughed heartily. "Yes, I'm afraid it is. Wounds with swords are much more difficult to heal that spells in many ways. So many of the sword wounds in today's society are made with specially fabricated swords that won't let their gashes be healed completely with magic. It takes about a week or so to feel back to normal condition. You'll be bedridden until then. We can't risk losing you again."

"How are they? The lords? The men?" I clarified.

"The lords are mighty fine. Almost too fine for my tastes. So many fell back during the battle. They let their men take the casualties. Lord Black, as vain and naïve as he is, he was still the strongest of the Lords. Perhaps it's his youth that gives him the stamina of a beagle.

"We lost many men during the battle as well. Only one hundred or so made it out of the castle alive. But of the many that were injured in the flight to Gravesend nearly all survived. "

"How many did we lose, Eric?"

"One hundred and seventy-six," he choked out.

The number lost shook me to my core. Of those in fighting condition, we had lost more than half. One hundred and seventy-six lost to the cause. When they had sworn fealty at Gaelen, they truly meant that they would fight to the death.

"How many did the mudbloods lose?"

"Far more. Those who didn't die fled through the forest."

"NO!" I roared with anger. "None were to live. None were to survive!"

"Elizabeth, the few men that slipped past were weak and cowards. They were badly injured as well and there is no way that they could have made it far. We covered the surrounding area as well and killed all refugees."

"What happened to Halden Castle?"

"Lord Rowan blasted it once we were clear. The bodies will never be found."

"Eric? H-h-how did you..." I paused hesitantly, falling short at a loss for words.

"Lord Hurst found me. He closed my wounds and told me that a real man was needed to kill the mudblood leader."

"I'll kill him."

"Already been done."

"By you? Or by a rebel?"

"I'd rather not say."

I gave a small smile and snuggled into Eric's arms, ignoring the pain that shot through me. "Thank you," I mumbled.

"Anything for love."

_**Author's Note and Deviations from History:** Halden Castle was never a castle. It was a manor house (which was not destroyed) passed from Sir Edward Guilford to his daughter Jane Guilford. This house was then passed onto the Dudley family by Jane through marriage to John Dudley, the first Duke of Northumberland. John Dudley is the father of Robert Dudley, who, was a childhood friend of Queen Elizabeth I and ended up having an affair with her. Robert Dudley however married Lettice Knollys after the death of his first wife, Amy Robsart. Lettice Knollys is the daughter of Catherine Carey, who is the daughter of Mary Boleyn, and therefore niece of Anne (and Elizabeth...hehe). See? Everything's connected! Yes, Edward Guilford did die in 1534. I do my research. Since I couldn't find any appropriate pictures of Halden Manor, I based the castle off of Leeds Castle. Feel free to look it up. _

_If the final battle scenes twisted your insides, I'm sorry. I did my best to describe medieval fighting with a wizarding twist and still keep it realistic (and TOS compliant). A big thank you goes out to the Association of Renaissance Martial Arts (ARMA) and the Swordplay Alliance for giving me videos, photos, and other mediums to better understand the details of medieval sword fighting. Although the scenes may be written slightly sloppily, I really did choreograph and practice that swordfight, although I daresay I looked rather silly in the middle of the street playing with a stick. _

_If you're wondering why the non-purebloods didn't just use Floo Powder, I guessed that the Floo Network hadn't been put together yet. Their castle is meant to be impenetrable, from the inside and out. That way, if someone found a way in, they would be trapped. Guess they never expected the war to enter their own home... _


End file.
